


Belonging of the Heart

by AbigailYoung



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Character Death, Complicated Relationships, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Dream Sex, Dreams and Nightmares, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Family Secrets, Hallucinations, Isolation, Language Kink, Manipulation, Masturbation, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mind Manipulation, Molestation, Older Man/Younger Woman, Organized Crime, Orgasm, Parent/Child Incest, Porn With Plot, Rape, Slow Build, Teen Angst, Uncle/Niece Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-08-03 00:11:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16315346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbigailYoung/pseuds/AbigailYoung
Summary: With the passing of her father, Rosemary is forever a changed girl by her father's astute love. Forever feeling his lingering presence and need for his affirmation and desire to be closer to him through out her adolescent years. Now Rosemary's only connection to her father and his family is through her alluring uncle who she has scarcely seen since her father's death.Can she handle the horrific truth of her fathers family and uncle and what slumbers deep within herself that she's ignored and denied. Putting her morality on the firing line while navigating her chaotic family relationships and social life. Will Rosemary give into her inner indulgence or move beyond and carve a life for herself and find her own sense of belonging.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Closing the Distance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11332335) by [YipYapYams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YipYapYams/pseuds/YipYapYams). 



> Thanks you for taking an interest in the story. I've been reading works on AO3 for a while now but have finally joined so i could begin posting. This is a story that has came to me over the past few weeks after exploring different themes, but also inspired from YipYapYams thenomonal work. These themes have sparked my interest for a while and first started on my tablet. I must admit i'm nervous posting my first work and I hope it doesn't disappoint, but i guess i won't know until i post. Any real life references to cities or countries are just that.
> 
> In no means do i endorse what occurs in this story. If you've clicked on this story i assume you've read the tags. If you don't like it, then don't read it simple as that. If you do enjoy the story line please comment and feel free to give possible feedback to help me improve as a writer. It will also give me an indication whether or not to continue posting. This did start as a personal project but thought i would be brave and share my writing.
> 
> I apologies for grammatical errors, i do try my best to proof read before posting. It's also important to know that any other language used in this story that isn't English is through online translators and sources and i do make an effort to make sure it's right, however if you see something really wrong, hit me up and i'll fix it.
> 
> Sorry for the Long notes just trying to cover everything i think i need to cover.
> 
> More tags will be added as needed because this is by no means a fully thought out story.

# Belonging of the Heart

* * *

##  Chapter 1

* * *

**Prologue**

Her world just seemed broken and silent, even among the crowd of people making a sea of black dresses and suits and the endless torrents of idle talk. Rosemary wanted nothing more than to crawl away and hide under a table and talk this whole thing as a nightmare and that everyone was happy and life was simple. Though she knew it wasn’t the case. Because a piece of her heart, her love and kindness was taken when she heard her mother gasp in pain and tears, after picking up the phone late one night and a raw vulnerability with puffy red eyes and tear stain face when she knocked on her door and spoke the unthinkable words, 'your papa watches over from above.' Her mother held her close and together they wept. At the age of ten, Rosemary knew life could never have the same bright tint and glow it had before. Even though she never fully attained his affection due to his distant and coarse parenting and his dedication to his work as an architect and his family’s business. There was always a deep rooted mentality that made her yearn for his warmth touch and praise from her father. Rosemary continued to try her best for him, and now that opportunity was forever taken away from her, it only left a burning desire to be close to her _Papa._

How she would trade anything in the world to feel his passion and the affirmation from his words. People's faces blurred and spoke with the mundane condolences that grated on her little ears and she zoned out and remain close to her mother. The only thing that peaked Rosemary's interest was getting to see her uncles and aunts on her father's extensive family with many coming from overseas in Europe. Showing ranging aspects of their Italian background. She barely remembers any of them only a select few. Her mother seemed to abstain from her father's side of the family for the most part, and it was only when she was young that her father and mother would take her overseas to visit her grandparents, but she was too young to even remember them at all. To Rosemary her father's family was an enigma. The Luciano family had a close knit bond that seemed interesting and she felt drawn to their energy. Standing a few meters away she noted her mother's demeanour changed more rigidly when she encountered any of her aunts or uncles. Her curt movements and pleasant tones that seem to contradict each other and hid the truth. She had figured it why her mother was more alert and weary when she encountered them. She was never like this when Carlos was alive.

She caught sight of her uncle Niccolò, his deep olive eyes and everything else meant little when she saw his dashing alluring white smile. Uncle Niccolò daring and charming. He stood out among the rest of her uncles and aunts. Niccolò was the only uncle she truly knew well enough because of his visits to America and holidays she spent with him and her father. He knew how to calm her and understood what she wanted even if she was throwing a tantrum for something else. There were some memories more clearly than others like him reading to her and playing prince and Princess. Bringing her out of her rosy memories, out of the corner of her eyes, Rosemary's mother singled her over but Rosemary needed no sign to run over and hug her slender built uncle and resting her head on fitted suit emphasising his taunt muscular physique under his exquisite suit,  
'Uncle Niccolò!'  
'My lovely Rosemary.' His accent breaking through his smooth English adding to his exotic vibe with his mild olive complexion that screamed European.  
Sliding his hands down with his firm hardy hold to the small of his niece’s back then back up to her shoulder. Bending down to Rosemary's eyes level with a resting grip of her shoulders making her smile even more under his loving touch. What more could she desire from her favourite uncle. Greeting her in their European way with a kiss to both cheeks setting them a deep red blush from the brush of his inviting lips. A little giggle pushed through her lips at the touch of his stubble tickling her cheek leaning into the shell of her ear.  
'Mia cara Rosá.' whisper of A warm breeze as he spoke with such softness to hear him speak in his native tongue.  
The phrase was foreign to her, however knew _Rosá_ was a pet name he gave her and recognised it to be a term of endearment. Only blushing more under his hold and he scooped her up in one arm. Tucked nicely against his smooth firm chest and pectorals and held her stead with his well-developed toned arms that oozed masculinity. For a man who was in his early thirties he certainly didn’t look it apart from the odd grey that could be seen in his hair in the right light. He spoke remarkable English knowing his first language was Italian. Casually turning his sight upon her mother.  
"My brother was a good man, wouldn't you agree Rita? With such a humble tone, cause for a truthful response from her mother.  
"Indeed Carlos Was a very define man with his actions and a true orator of language and knew how to achieve the impossible." A flash of sorrow crossed her glassy eyes in effort to hold composure.  
"Yes I couldn't put it better a real raconteur that could sell an idea or deal to anyone. Always planning ahead with a conscientious outlook.” maintaining his sensual pleasant tone as he stared down at Rosemary's mother.  
"A methodical mind set. That I can't say I've seen in another man and something I loved, however he would always having you reeling in for more until he had you were he wanted you. It was how he seemed to communicate." with a slight shift in her weight on her feet and gazing to the window. Rosemary could see the pain that troubled her mother deeply about the topic of her father. Her pale grey blue eyes could never truly hide what she thought.  
"It's been a while since I've seen precious Rosemary, how have you two been going?" Keeping conversation up to her mother's lack of interest.  
"It’s been a challenge, but were still adjusting. Sorting through Carlos's belongings with his work arrangements. How have you been Niccolò, have you moved back to the US or still staying back over In Italy?" Making the effort in retaining his gaze despite her weak composure.  
"Ah, now that you speak of my living arrangements I've moved back to the US for a while. Still Where I was before. Out in the beautiful woodlands that New Hampshire has to offer." Gently stroking Rosemary’s dark chestnut locks and tangling his finger in the strands of hair.  
His touch was soothing and exactly want she needed at this time.  
"Does that mean I can visit you uncle Niccolò?" Overjoyed to hear the prospects of spending time and learning more about her uncle and fathers family.  
"Of course sweet Rosemary I would love to have you come and stay, perhaps in your School breaks over the winter and fall or even summer" Rita only smiled and made no comment on whether or not she could go see him.  
"What I wanted to say to you two ladies, particular you Rita was if you need a hand with anything don't be afraid to call. Your still part of our family no matter what." Giving Rosemary another quick peck and lowering her down.  
"I appreciate the offer Niccolò, the sentiment of family is understood. I'll keep that in mind." taking her daughters hand in hers.  
"I send my condolences to your family as you have lost a brother and son as well. I send my best wishes to them if you care to pass that on."  
"Many thanks Rita." Turning to look at Rosemary and his face softens at the sight of her, "It was a great joy to see my only niece again even under these sombre circumstances. I do hope to see you again ladies. I’m only a call away.” His rich voice to her ears in that brief conversation made her feel relaxed and gave a reprieve to sombre mood that was still lingering around the wake.

They parted ways and on the way home. Rosemary watched the environment express the vibrant colour changes in the leaves, indicating cooler months ahead, however she knew that her life would go on with one less person in her life that could never be replaced by any man. The absences of her father it felt like starting a new. She would go into her adolescence with no male figure to keep her in line like her father through his overbearing demeanour at times. Rosemary would no longer see the man who kept his office in immaculate condition, or the man who would take her to school and the car trip would be in absolute silence. The man she feared and respected was gone. Strangely as she reflected on seeing her uncle Niccolò the similarities were obvious between her father and uncle. It only made sense being brothers. There was no denying that both her father and uncle shared very similar traits and aura. If she couldn’t continue to visit her uncle, then she was losing the opportunity to stay connected to her papa, which was all she ever wanted in life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been 6 years after Carlo's death and now Rosemary has gradually grown in to a young women but that's not to say she has got a lot to learn about herself and others around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is quite longer then the prologue, hope you enjoy.  
> Comments are welcome

# Belonging of the Heart

* * *

## Chapter 2

* * *

**6 years later**

Rosemary and her mother were heading down a path that could tear there fragile relationship apart, and the longer she avoided talking to her mother the further the gap seemed. Coming to the end of another school year, a year she wish she could forget and the beginning of summer break saw her life spiralling beyond her control. She felt disconnected through the absence of her friend, Nat and her issues with boys and family. Completing her second year and dropping in standards was something that didn't bother her, as long as she passed she was fine by that, so she thought. Maybe it was a phase but she had taken to doing everything against her mother's wishes, a defiant rebellious streak.

Lately she thought about her father and the ever growing attachment that still burned strongly and passionately just as the little girl many years ago. Maybe it was due to the dawning fact that her mother was preparing to get married to her fiancé. What didn't help her was moving at the beginning of the year to accommodate her mother's fiancé and his children. Not that he was a bad man, she just wasn't use to having a male influence in her life and let alone going from the only child to being the middle child. Also the standard teenage anxiety that every teenager faced, and she was no different. Beginning her summer by retreating to her love of books and shutting herself away from her obnoxious siblings and her nagging mother. Spending a day in her room seemed the perfect way to begin her break. Settling down and sinking her mind into a steamy romantic cliché novel and dreaming how she could be free of all her problems.

"Rosemary we need to sit down and have a proper conversation about this. I don't want to start another screaming match between the two of us. Things are already unstable between us. Please come down." Rita's voice falling on deaths ears with silence only greeting her and not her daughter.  
She hasn't seen her all day not even lunch. With Jasper trying to coax her out, but she didn't give him any response or acknowledgement which made her frustrated even more with her daughter. Impatience crept in drumming her fingers against the balustrade of the stairs. With no response, a long sigh escaped her purse lips. Wandering back into the kitchen, her soon to be husband, her fiancé, Jasper, who was getting acquainted with the reports of her new daughters academic abilities, more or less, lack of academics. This new attitude she had adopted had cleaved a rift between their relationship. Rosemary choosing not to apply her gifted abilities through her schooling, resulting in a significant drop from an A student to a C- student. Countless reports had seen their way home with teachers reporting in her lack of engagement in class and disinterested attitude. Though the only classes that she chose to remain an A student, was her art subject and language which caused irritation to Rita to no ends. Rosemary fought tooth and nail against Rita's advice to elect a subjects that could further develop her skills such as international relations or business. And should have chosen another language that was wider known and spoken.

Deep down Rita knew where her rebellious streak had surfaced from. Over the last year or so Rita began to talk and got to know Jasper, who she stumbled upon during a work function. It was her best friend, Cheryl who initially introduced him. Who was soundly divorce after nine years with an older daughter and a younger son, his ex-wife had left them on a rather bittern note for another man and seemed less than willing to take care of their two children. Still being young she couldn't stay single forever. Though that sounds selfish to say, Carlos would have wanted her to be happy in life, however he would want his daughter to be happy as well. And over the years she seem to struggle to see what could make her happy in life.

The family dynamic was another area which also contributed to her devious life choices she assumed. Last summer they moved to a bigger house in preparation to accommodate Jasper and his two children. Vivian and Rosemary never saw eye to eye, with just two years the difference. The amount of fighting that has occurred between them, made this house a battle field. With tensions constantly running high, Rita was desperate to try and remedy this gap. As she poured a glass of wine for the two of them. She noticed how Jasper's jaw tighten and brow knitting tightly sliding the report away on the counter top. She could see that he too was trying to formulate a plan to try and see common ground with her daughter.  
"She'll come around Jasper She just needs time and space to clear her head." passing the glass over.  
"This can't keep going like this dear. Rosemary needs to make a decisions soon. It's hard to talk to her. She rejects my authority easily and it still feels like a grey line as to how far I can push my discipline on to her. Call me selfish but I feel a more formal education would do her better than letting her carry on in the public system." Sighing, upon taking a sip.  
"We have to remember dear on how she perceives this current dynamic. The two of us getting married, is like me rejecting everything my late husband had built, coming from being an only child to a family arrangement and you, having a male influence around when she hasn't had one for some time. What Rosemary is clinging to is what she is familiar with and comfortable with." gently rubbing her hands over his tense back and giving a deep shoulder massage.  
"Vivian should be home soon with Toby. Maybe after dinner we should try talking to her." At the sound of his voice,  
Rita heard footsteps on the stairs and rounded the corner Rosemary appeared wearing an oversized shirt and black leggings.

Pulling away from her book that was quite enticing in more ways than one. Ignoring her mother's call and saw fit to make her way down when she was ready. Slowly shutting her door to keep her presence undetectable. The one good thing about this house was the silent doors allowing her to stay hidden away from her family. Feet padding lightly over the carpet floor stopping mid-way when she heard the conversation that her mother and Jasper were having. Rosemary heard it all, and big shock, it was of course about her school grades. Almost giving her position away with a satirical laugh at Jasper's thoughts of moving her to a private school. Like hell she would, considering she had two more years left of high school. While to a large degree what her mother spoke was true enough, there were other factors that was yet to be talked about, such as the denial over the years for her to go visit her uncle.

The last time she saw him was just over three years ago when her mother agreed for her to spend fall break with him up in his New Hampshire residency and even then she was very reluctant. She very much enjoyed experiencing his company and in many ways she saw more of her father in her uncle both with phenomenal sturdy but slender build, toned physique that was above all pleasing to admire, something she had never seen in her uncle before. He listened to what she had to say, giving blunt answers and at times a reality check, which she revered him for. Most of the generous affection he bestowed upon Rosemary was something she craved and experienced very little of it back home without any male influence, not even her mother could make up for her father’s brief touches. Niccolò also convinced her to learn Italian as a language at her school, which her mother was cautious of.

Taking a seat on the stairs she listened further. While she wasn't overly keen on Jasper's family Rosemary knew he was trying to make the best out of his limiting position. It wasn't that he was a bad father at all, he just wasn't her real father and though it was a sentimental thing she couldn’t see past. He may be a father but she only wanted her _papa_. She felt pang deep inside her at the mention of her father. When she was lonely or stressed she would whisper his name and think of his rugged features like his bristling side burns. Each line in his face she didn’t see age but wisdom and experience.

School was challenging enough as it was without the ongoing drama her best friend was going through. Rosemary found herself switching off in classes and completely zoning out, though it was her art and language class that she remained invested and made school pleasant enough to want to stay. Having to share things still irritated her, and Rose’s new step sister had been pain in her ass for a while nothing she did could compare to Vivian's stellar academics, and though she was proud to see her take hold of her life and know what she wanted to do, Rosemary couldn't help but envy her. She was sick of being lectured to be more like Vivian, both mother and Jasper would say.

After hearing enough, it was time she made an appearance, knowing her sister would be home any minute with her younger brother. God the house was quiet without Toby. As boys will be boys she got annoyed when he got into places he shouldn't, such as her room and taking things that were of no business to him. She hadn't forgiven him about taking her diary and even though it was locked, he still manage to pick it and started blurting out sensitive matters to her family. God she could of slit his throat open right there and then on the wooden floorboards. That only added to a growing tension in this household and the alienation from the rest of the world.

Tugging on her oversized shirt getting up she walked out to the kitchen, we'll aware how dishevelled she looked, with her long thick chestnut curls most likely tangled and ruddy looking face. She looked at the two adults in the room and opened her mouth in greeting. "You called for me mother." Long drawl of disinterest.  
"Rose can we please sit down and have a conversation where we can come halfway at least." Pulling out a chair for the two of them as she saw how Jasper tense upon her entering the room.  
"Dear can you at least explain to us the choices you've made regarding your education." bringing her voice to a sympathetic tone.  
“All the changes in my life mum, you and Jasper getting married next month, not something I saw in my future but I know that he makes you happy in a similar way father did. I would be selfish to wish you anything but my blessing, it’s just something that takes time to adjust. However it’s not just my personal conflicting thoughts on your happiness. You've pushed me to be like Vivian all year, but I'm not. I'm not sure what I want to do or if I want to go to college in a few years’ time." Rosemary had taken a seat and she felt her body shake, gripping A little too tight as her nails pushed through skin, speaking louder than she thought.  
A sudden nausea made her head spin and she wanted to vomit. Just thinking and talking about all this was doing her head.  
"Dear we only want the best for you, were sorry if it seems were pushing you, we just don't want you to regret making the wrong choice." Jasper finding the time to interject. "We just think that moving you to a private Institute for your final two years to help really focus on what you want to do would be better off in the long term."  
“No please, I'm fine at my school I wouldn't have any friends and it would only disrupt my further studies." Rosemary Firing right back with great intensity.  
"Your studies have already been disrupted by choices and your friends as well. Don't think I don't know the strife your friend Nat is going through her mother has told me to tell you that she’s getting help this coming year and not to expect to hear from her too much." Her mother placing a firm hand on her daughters lap.  
"You can't blame my grades on my friend’s choices, I made the choice to stand behind her because she's my best friend mum. I value that more. You don't let me do what I want." Pulling away from her mother.  
"That's not true." her face contorting with underlying disgust that her daughter make such an outrageous accusation.  
"Oh really Mum, would you allow me to spend A few weeks with my uncle up in New Hampshire and be back in time for your wedding." Standing abruptly from her grasp.  
"Rosemary... You know how I feel..." cutting her off before another word, "No mum I don't what is it that you have against uncle Niccolò and the rest of father’s family?" Coming out as a scathing tone and lashing out at her. "Rosemary! You want the truth. The truth is that I don't believe your uncle is a good influence on you. There is something not right about your father’s family. I chose to turn a blind eye to it because I loved your father deeply that it didn't matter as long as it didn't concern me. That's my answer to your question and the truth." Moving closer to Rosemary, grabbing her wrist.  
"My point exactly you won't allow me to do what I want." Rosemary’s eyes were full of anger and frustration.  
"Rosemary did you not hear my concerns!" her voice rising to the same level as her daughter.  
"I did and I'll keep that in mind." Teeth bared at her mother.  
What came next she did not expect her mother to do, but only highlighted the gap. Before she registered it and felt a stinging sensation on her cheeks. And her mother's hand the other side of her face and a chocked gasp from her mother's lips. Rosemary felt the numbing sensation that pulsated across her cheek and felt the reverberations and stood dumbfounded unsure what she should do. Even Jasper looked shocked and frozen in place.  
"Rose. Rosemary..." Her voice coming out with a broken stammer at her lack of control.  
Blurry vision and tears welding in her eyes as an automatic reaction, what was this that she was feeling? Before she could stop she turned and ran up the stairs fumbled with whatever shoes she could put on and grabbed her phone and ran straight past Jasper who was halfway up the stairs to check on her and then out the door into the warm Sumner afternoon and ran without a second thought. Legs like jelly as she stumble to find them after the long period of being inactive and living in her room.  
"I can't take it anymore. I need an escape." panting to herself as she ran down the streets.

 

 

The late afternoon cooling the earth and giving everything a tinted orange look. It didn't take long until she reached her destination as her legs burn from the sudden burst of energy. Rosemary didn’t even realise were she was going until now. Her body ran before her mind could catch up and brought her to a park. Staring absentmindedly at the swing set in the park. Blinking a few times and her eyes saw a young girl, the picture of innocents with her light flowing dress and long curly pigtails on the swing and her father pushing from behind. _Father? How could she forget a memory like that?_ A vision that challenges the man she knew to be disinterest in her presence and firm deep voice whenever she got into trouble. More tears came freely as she gravitated towards this vision before it faded. Rosemary took a seat on the swing. She sat all alone in the park with not another soul in sight. _Where did that little bright smart girl go?_ The park was foreign but that memory was real. There was no way Rosemary could’ve made that up. Her father’s lips were slightly pulled back to a smile, no, it wasn’t a smile but a simpering satisfied look as he pushed his laughing little girl on the swing as she beamed with joy. _When did this occur?_ She couldn’t have been more than seven or eight. Her mind was a mess and running rampant causing a great sense of instability. The sting of her cheeks had but turned into a dull throb. Rosemary was convinced there would still be a mark of her mother’s hand. In times like this she could talk to one other person that was not her friend Nat. The overwhelming memory left her feeling sick even more than before.

Trembling hands slid across her phone, smudging the tears off the screen as they continued to roll down and stain her cheeks. She scrolled all the way down her contacts and his number positioned in front of her. Rosemary hadn't called him in over two years. That was when she felt stress and lonely not having many friends in junior high. His voice came to mind with the memory before she left his house that fall, ‘Do not hesitate to call me when you need a hand to guide you through your thoughts or if you’re lonely my darling.’ As he leaned over to embrace his little niece with a strong but comforting hold and his lingering breath as his gentle lips paused just off to side of her cheek and near her ear for a kiss. ‘Your growing up fast, it doesn't mean you will outgrow your uncle, Rosá.’ To her memory she remembered how low and deep his voice had dropped, thinking of it gave a tingling sensation up her back. Rosemary remembered him slipping the paper in her bag with his number.

Now this would make it the second time she has found a need for his presence in her life. Holding her breath as her fingers release the dial and waited. Each dial she felt her lungs constrict an inch. It rang and rang going straight to message bank. Words tremble out of her dry mouth at the sound the tone. "Uncle... Niccolò... it's… Rosemary..." She couldn't bring herself to continue and let the message time out.  
She sat on the swing and let herself fester in her troubled mind. She felt her throat swell and a soreness that Rosemary tried to push down. Everything was stacking up in her life and she needed someone who would listen to her, regardless what advice might come of it. Whether or not it was positive or negative.  
The sudden buzzing vibrations resonating from her lap made her jump, with her phone falling among the wood chips. Scrambling to the ground and grabbed it. Swiping to answer to see his number calling her back. Raising the phone to her ear, her heart dropped, skipped a beat at the crack of his deep accented voice coming through more then what she's use to.  
"Rosemary... I got your message... I'm sorry I couldn't answer you straight away... You sound distressed my dear... Please what is it." His voice already calming her enough to start talking.  
Sitting back she started rattling her subconscious mind.  
"I need to escape... I can't take it anymore here... Please Uncle Niccolò I need your help." feeling the sickening panic rise in her throat once more. "Shh darling.... One problem at a time and deep breaths. What is it that's too much?" Voice soft and calming like a cool ice sliding along hot skin that made her choke on a sob.  
"My mother’s getting married next month and having to move this year to adjust for her fiancé’s family.... I just feel like I don't belong there. I never seem to live up to the standards of my mother and her partner..."Slowly she took deep breaths following his voice while keeping her trembling lips at bay.  
"You feel as if your worlds turned upside down and everything comfortable and familiar is gone, piece by piece, just like the marriage symbolizes your mother moving on from your father. I'm sure it pains you to no end and from the sounds of it. You needs to let everything on your subconscious out." there's a pause on the line, "Rosemary you already know what I'm probably going to say to you. In time you will move on or acknowledge that the world does not revolve around your selfish, In-ward thinking and your so call wants and needs. It's time you grew up and for once and thought about others more instead of heedlessly brushing off what other people may be going through." His tone changed in an instinct into a callous cold hearted man on the other end of the line. His cool tone turning to a biting winter frost eating at skin leaving frost bite.  
The affects were instantaneous on her. Feeling great guilt and ashamed with her behaviour. Her cheeks turning red and stomach turning lead. How was she to respond to her uncles words?  
"I'm... Sorry." sounding hoarse from crying.  
"No Rosá don't apologise to me, apologise to the people trying to help you." Chiding her dismal attempt to save face.  
"Yes, uncle Niccolò." she meekly responded like a little tiny mouse.  
"Good girl, now what else is consuming you?" his voice returning to his pleasant charming way that she loved about him.  
"I… I... I'm not sure... I feel like an idiot now, I wanted to help my friend who's been going through a rough patch... she's been doing things that do her more harm than good.... Nat she's been one of my only friends.... She's my only friend that's stood by me all these years.... I can't do anything to help and I feel like I'm losing her and I'm going to be alone.... my schooling.... has come at cost....." Rosemary’s barely holding it together as her I tears flow freely once again as Rosemary reflects on what she cries to her uncle and how true his cold words are truly what she needs to hear.  
"Rosemary it sounds to me that Nat isn't really your friend, whatever she's doing, it is of her own volition and isn't thinking about the others that care for her well-being." he stops momentarily before another tone shift of a cruel mockery, "Now doesn't that sound very familiar my dear Rosemary... like some spoiled girl use to living in her perfect world where everything is familiar and safe Mmm? My Rosá it all comes back to you and your mindless actions and thoughts, you need to assess your life my girl and clear away what's causing you damage, your attitude and judgement. What would your father have to say to your erratic behaviour do you think he would want to see you on the path of destruction." His tone sardonic and dominate making herself fall further and further away from reality. Inside she felt so belittle and worthless. She had disappointed her father and her uncle how could she atone for her actions. She was responsible for her woes. Once again her Uncle struck the cord of great sensitivity and the epitome of who she is, even though it has been six years she still feels him close as if he's always been watching her back. God her uncle reminds her so much of her father.

"Uncle.... Please help me... I don't want to be like this anymore... I'm a disappointment to you and my father." Rosemary was beyond stopping her crying. Her tears felt liberating but painful at the same time. Slowly she got to her feet from the swing but nothing seem to function and her legs gave in. Falling to her knees as his words bite deep into body and heart. Her uncle had said everything right and now she was paying for it with her selfish thinking. She wished he was here in person for her so she could feel his body against her and hold her until exhaustion claimed her. She switched to loud speaker unable to hold the phone close to her as she cried.  
"Oh beautiful Rosemary, my precious Rosá, my heart breaks not being there for you. For now go home and will talk more when I come. But you will at least apologise to Rita and her fiancé for me won't you my dearest. Do it for your loving uncle" he says with softens as he continues to murmur reinsurance to his niece.  
"Yes... I think I can manage that Uncle." Speaking in fragments through her shuddering sobs.  
"That's my girl I'll see you soon enough." The line going dead as he hung up.

The fading sun light bought her attention back to her surrounding environments and Rosemary slowly found her remaining strength and made her way to the water fountain to freshen up before returning home. It was inevitable that no amount of calming would hide her puffy cheeks and plump lips and glassy eyes from all the crying and letting her emotions out. Getting a drink and taking many deep breaths she began to walk home in the dying rays, opening to the warm summer night.

 

 

Exhaustion was taking its toll which allowed fatigue to make itself known in her system. Opening the front door she saw her siblings in the lounge both giving her wide eyes stares and the sound of her mother's hurried footsteps. Before she could protest, Rita was hugging her and apologising profusely, "Rosemary please forgive me I should never have reacted the way I did."  
"I'm also sorry for how I acted to both you and Jasper." she croaked and hugged her back.  
"Will get through this together, Dinner is almost ready Rose dear." Her mother spoke softly as she continue to hug her daughter.  
"Thank you but... But I'm so tired mum I need to sleep... Please." Her mind was zoned out from the rest of the family, even just focusing on her mother was hard enough.  
Pulling from her grip she began to make it up to stairs to get to her bedroom. "Ah... alright... If you get hungry there will be a plate in the fridge for you." As if Rita was trying to reach out once more to her daughter but hesitated.  
"Thank you Mum." One step after another Rosemary made it to her room, stripped naked and collapsed into bed and pulled just her sheet up to her and held steady with her pillow to her chest wishing it to be her father or even her uncle. As her vision blurred with darkness and the dingy dying summer light another dream or possible memory was taking form around her.

Her father's warm hand stroking and detangling her bushy matted chestnut hair that tangled from the summer humidity easily that once use to be smooth and soft as he laid in bed alongside her. Whispering alluring comfort thoughts, 'you’re always my baby girl and you are mine and my responsibility alone.' There was that recurring husky underlying tone that made his heritage come through his language. She envisioned him with such realism that her heart wasn’t slower but still beating rapidly from the evening in the park. Feeling his firm taunt masculine build in contrast to her soft sun kissed pale complexion and subtle curves. Wearing a flimsy light cotton summer nighty that in hindsight did nothing to her hide her younger delicate body from her fathers eyes and hands. Sleeping against the wall of her old room and his hot breath on her skin and Rosemary’s head resting in the crux of Carlos's neck acting as a pillow and protection. The scent of his musky cologne that carried the slight hint of olive and rosemary and let a lazy moan against his neck, ‘papa. She felt like she was in his home country when she caught whiff of his scent. His pulse was a steady rhythm and Rosemary felt his throat bob against his drawn firm smooth throat as he spoke gruffly, ’ Dormi mio caro angelo.’ Moving his hand gently up Rosemary’s back and holding her close and she felt safe in his hold.

Suddenly awake and alert and it all disappeared as Rosemary sat up straight in her bed feeling hot and sweaty and hugging a pillow. She was older now and alone in her dingy room that is not from her childhood or smells like herbs that grew just outside her window. That wasn't a dream but another memory of Carlos soothing her younger self over something that got her worked up during a summer night. Rosemary’s stomach turned to a sudden giddiness at the thought of that younger girl and older man and their bodies entwined with each other. Inside she felt something spur to life with smouldering passion. This feeling and sensation was nothing new to her, in fact Rosemary dreaded what this truly indicated about herself. _Could she really accept her deepest and most sinful desire?_ No it was out of the question. She would keep that darkness down. It was only this year that she became aware of this underlying hideous side that made her think of twisted things, starting off as chaste memories that seemed more dreamlike and slowly turn to nightmares or something sinister. Even worse, sometimes her mind would play a game with Rosemary, were she believed that these perversions were real and happened, but she could always talk herself down from fully believing her mind and blamed it on her stress and hormones getting the better of her.

This was another thing that added to the changes in attitudes and a deeper desire to remain Carlos's little girl. Rosemary let the pillow fall away from her nakedness. Slowly slipping her delicate small hand down her pelvic bone to a horrified quiver of her body as she felt past her folds revealing an all too well slick moisture of her arousal that was as a result of her mind at work, from what was first an innocent memory. As a much more older and young woman, aware of the true nature of people’s intentions and a range of new emotions, her father's familial love seems tainted now. His lingering hugs and the kisses on her lips and long caresses. Though from her memory those gestures are far and few and when they occurred she accepted it as the only way he felt comfortable showing his affection. However it may not have been the case, maybe there is something deeply wrong with her. She could be very much wrong and the sickness lie within. Rosemary would never tell anyone about this corruption of sort that she crave. Just thinking made her shiver greatly but excited her.

Throwing her full weight back on the mattress, Rosemary's greedy fingers struggle to resist the arousal of her sinful desire. Rosemary gently stroked and guided her finger across her overstimulated bundle of nerves and let a stammering whimper fill the silence at such pleasure that ran through her body. Rosemary’s mind flickering back to that memory in time. Taking the memory further thoughts of the possibility of him going further then just stroking and running his large but slender long hands through her sea of Brown hair. Rosemary guided her finger deeper into herself, pushing a further digit into her oozing arousal. Ideas sparking all at once in her mind alluding to where else his hands could possibly go over that fragile small proportioned body. How easily he could of broke and made her in those moments when it was just the two of them in her childhood bedroom. Earning another sweet moan at the possibilities. Gasping as she pressed further and fast around her swollen clitoris, moans and whimpers were so soft in the summer heat that it was deafening to her ears but sweet as a melody. Going faster she groaned pumping her fingers in and out the she rolled onto her stomach and thrust her hips against the coated fingers resulting in the further spreading of her own wetness just starting to secrete out along her labia. From her delirium of her approaching climax her breath grew shorter in great successions.

Rosemary's eyes closed as her mind continued to go further beyond the memory, beyond the border line of morally acceptable conduct between the roles of father and daughter to this lewd debauchery, resulting in twisted perversion of morals as she conjured her father's talented hands on her plump thick wee thighs as a young girl and his slow and tantalising hands, provoking moans out of her flush lips. Making Carlos want to saviour her discomfort and need for his fatherly touch to go deeper and harder into her little girl. Her father’s hand reaching further up her chest and cupping her small mounds that were her breast at that young age and pushing hard with each squeeze, leaving possible marks against her chest showing his claim to his darling angel. At this thought of the growing fantasy, with her other hand doing just that, as Rosemary made the conscious effort to tug at her raw erect nipple forcing a gasp out of her parched mouth, adding to her hoarse panting.  
"Fuck..." seething her teeth in her lips holding back the louder carnal moan.  
Legs tensing, sweat coating her skin and toes curling, the pinnacle of her glorious high and the words formed broken and hoarse, “Oh Papa..." cut off by her profound arch of her back and soundless cry, riding herself through her beautiful and disturbing orgasm.  
Leaving her spaced out and absent minded to the house. Only her panting and pounding heart remained of her high. Lying flat on her back once more she didn't want to move and couldn't find it in her to do so. Time merged and she didn't care what the time was. With her hands gently caressing her slick body and reaching her thighs. Rosemary didn’t care or most likely didn’t won’t to think too deeply on what her vivid imagination just created and how it broke so many ethical and moral human laws. Her father who died at the age of 38 and herself as a youthful child barely crossing into adolescence. It wasn't long before her zoned out mind turned towards the darkness that had been approaching her vision and soon tumbling into a slumber that was inevitable from the emotional toll from today’s drama.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As for regular posting i would like to do weekly updates, however due to final school exams approaching there might be some inconstancy. Hopefully after exams are done i can maintain regular posting. hopefully there isn't to many major errors. Thanks for reading


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> exploring more of the characters perspectives and the inner workings and thoughts of dear Rosemary and her battle to remain in control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably one of my longer chapters trying to make up for lapse of time between my last post due to life and new editing process. I'm sorry for great time wait i know how it feels to have to wait for a post. But here it is.

# Belonging of the Heart

* * *

## Chapter 3

* * *

She wasn't sure what time it was but her muddle mind was now piecing together what happened the evening before, the fight with her mother, the slap to her face, park, uncle on the phone and her twisted mind. Now she wished she remained asleep. While Rosemary's mind was playing catch up her body was more in tune to what had woken her, voices. Voices coming from below and down in the house down stairs. 

 

Footsteps sounded and grew louder. Someone was coming up the stairs and at a fast pace. Followed by a knock and a voice, "Rose if you’re awake can you please come down, I think your mother would very much appreciate you filling in some details. Please try and make an effort in your appearance." Jasper's voice trailed back down the stairs to join the commotion below. From the sounds of it even he seemed a bit tensed and annoyed. But that was how Jasper normally sounded to her.

 

Finally Rosemary’s mind caught up to the implications and the 'details' Jasper was referring to. Had he arrived already, this early? What time was it? Legs springing with revived energy of the thought of her uncle here, tripping on her feet and flying frantically to pull on clean undergarments and the freshest pair of jeans and shirt to look somewhat decent at the request of Jasper and most likely her mother’s too. Smoothing her hair the best she could without delaying further. Voices continue to sound, particularly her mother's, Rosemary already knew by the shrillness of her tone that she wasn’t happy. 

 

Still slightly sluggish from sleep she made her way down the stairs. Just as lively as her legs, her heart throbbed with so many emotions. Terrified of what Rita was going to say. The sense of insignificance for when she would see his piercing olive eyes looking down at her. However the tingling sensation at the thought of her uncle’s presence, and revelled in the idea of physically hugging her uncle or just his touch. Slowing her approach in measured composed steps trying not to betray her thoughts and emotions. 

 

Rosemary’s mother’s voice became clear and it seems that she too, was trying her best to keep calm and collected. "… Niccolò, it's black if I remember, one sugar? Take a seat I'm sure Rose will be down very shortly." Strain on her voice hiding her hostility from the family and Niccolò. Rosemary hoped Jasper and the others would find a convenient reason to leave the house while Niccolò was here, she didn't see any sign of them maybe they had, probably for the better.

 

"Yes, that's right, thank you for your hospitality, I must say though, you need not hide your displeasure to see me arrive this fine morning Rita. I came at the request of my niece, regardless if you think I'm wasting my time, you couldn't be more wrong. Though time will tell." His tone rather bland with the sharp edge of his tongue, though as skilfully as he was, changing to an amicable tone, "On a much joyful note I think a prenuptial congratulation is in order. I do hope he makes you a happy wife, just as my brother once did." His voice carried a conversational mood that made you want to listen, though Rita knew better than accept his deceitful words and pushed them to aside as she moved about the kitchen pouring this man a cup of coffee for the sake of formality. If she had it her way she would’ve forced him to leave, but that would only prove her daughter’s opinion of her being a selfish and unfair mother. She would make the best of her situation. 

 

Rosemary rounded the corner to see her mother and uncle in the kitchen. Rita making coffee and her uncle at the breakfast bar. "Glad to see you up dear, did you sleep well?" Seeming normal and less concern for what could possibly be said shortly, another front of her mother’s that was becoming the normal between the two of them.  
"I did mum, I'm sorry I forgot to mention that I called uncle Niccolò, I needed to turn to a third party. After yesterday.” She kept her eyes solely on her mother dreading Niccolò looking at her and keeping her tone cool and calm, though also cold.  
"It hurts me that you thought this was true, that you thought you needed to go this far. I'm lost for words." Matching her composed cold tone. Rosemary wasn't about to break out of her composure knowing full well that she would say something that would do more damage. Without further words, she gave a terse nod. Finally giving into the dread she looked to see her uncle who was neither smiling nor frowning, but remaining neutral, making it hard to read him. Finding herself hesitantly walking over to him as he sat on the stool.  
"Thank you for coming Uncle, I'm truly grateful." Looking up at him seeing dark green eyes staring back at her own dark hazel eyes. Feeling her words come out rather weaker then she anticipated.  
"Yes, well I see now that it is obvious the tension between you and your mother, though I always thought you took after your father more than your mother." Without further delay Niccolò got up and pulled her into his embrace and hugged her, taking Rosemary by surprise.

 

His touch was an instant recognition of her father touch. The protective way he would hug Rosemary when she was little was the same as her uncle's. Wanting to stay there forever in his arms to continue to remember. Too soon he released Rosemary and sat back with his coffee. "I think we should get to the point of why you begrudged Niccolò to come." Rita spoke positioning herself to lean against the counter.  
"I... I would still like to go back with him for a few weeks, though you seem contempt to disallow me." pausing briefly feeling her pride take a hit, "I also wanted to say that I'm wrong in a lot of ways, that I have been an ungrateful daughter and selfish to believe that your happiness wasn't just as important." those words tasted like vinegar but was a step in the right direction. Taking a seat beside her uncle nervously.  
Her mother’s face went through many different emotions and tighten at her confession than relaxed. "I'm proud that you could admit that my dear. I guess we have been pushing you to do better." Rita's voice coming out slowly as if she too didn't want to admit her errors.  
"The choices I made are rash and vain, this coming year I will make a conscience effort to try and change." Rosemary was sure that her mother struggled to admit the truth to her. 

 

Strangely this was going better then she planned, Rosemary felt in control for once, maybe it was because her uncle was here. Though his interjection into this talk only threatened to raise a bigger issue between her mother and herself that surprised both Rosemary and Rita, "Rita do you mind if I say something?" She only nodded, but her expression was ridged.  
"Your daughter seems to be willing to make amends, what are you prepared to do?" His tone hinting at his curiosity but pushing the unspoken words between Rita and herself.  
"As I said, I will try and change, the two of us, Jasper and I will stop putting undue pressure on Rose and support her in her endeavours with her education.", turning to speak to Rosemary, Rita looked directly into her eyes, "Would you still consider moving to a private senior school for your final two years, and allowing you to pick the subjects that you want to do? If you don't that's fine too and you can still do the subjects you want to do." looking at her daughter only avoiding her uncle.  
"I'll think about it..." was her only response as her mother handed her a cup of coffee. A peace offering if anything.  
“Rita your avoiding her question still." Niccolò hindering to her mother's growing ire of his presence.  
Rita instantly pricking at his deep tone, "That I haven't said yes that my daughter could spend A few weeks with you." Straight out with bitterness and now her facade and composure was cracking and her true feelings were starting to surface.  
Niccolò had finally wormed his way under her skin and went straight for her sensitive spot.

 

"Are you saying you're denying your only daughter happiness? While she gives her blessing to your joyful relationship." Rosemary was shocked to see how condescending he could be that it frightened her slightly, but highlighted how skilful he was at the art of conversation. With every second that passed Rosemary was watching her uncle unravel her mother.  
"Don't give me that crap Niccolò, you don't get to play that card, you haven't been in her life. Don't think I'm not aware of what you're trying to do by coming here, don't think it's going to work." If looks could kill, her uncle would be in a body bag, as daggers of steel shined across her pale blue grey eyes. Never had she seen this woman standing before Rosemary, hands clinched over the marble counter top. Her mind was left to her imagination to try and understand what would make her mother turn into this woman before her. Eyes wide. Rosemary didn't know who to turn to, though this was her mother at her most vulnerable, unnerved by his choice words.  
"Mum...?" Her voice low with concern. 

 

It took her moments to register her daughter’s low drawl through her anger and anguish that she was seeing red from how Niccolò was undermining her parental ability. God, Rita thought she had learnt the first time at how manipulative Luciano men can be. Niccolò was no exception. Almost spitting image of her husband. Maybe that was one factor why she wouldn't let her daughter go. But she knew more than what her young daughter who had yet to comprehend the true reality of her father and his family. Even she didn't know the full extent of how corrupt his family truly was. Rita knew her husband had ties to his family’s business and minor idea on what part he played. Carlos had said he would never expose his daughter to that side of things, so Rita believed but knew he was lying and couldn't do anything about it, she was powerless from the beginning of her relationship with that man. But Niccolò was completely different from his older brother, she knew that he was the closest brother to her husband. Rita was dealing with unfamiliar territory, she really didn't know what he could be capable of, but if anything like her husband she feared the worse.

 

But now he had her where he wanted her. She couldn't win no matter what option she took. She was dammed if she did, and dammed if she didn't. If she dismissed her daughters request to visit her uncle, which means to reject her happiness it would only push her further away and most likely into her uncle’s arms and destroying her relationship. If Rita allowed her daughter to go she would run the risk of exposing her daughter to his luring and dominating influence. She couldn't live with herself if that was the case. From her peripheral vision, she saw his lips curl slightly as if he could read her mind. A wretched snake she always thought of him as. He had won and she would give in. She would take the chance and hope that Niccolò was not the man she feared he might be underneath that veneer of his caring charisma. 

 

Her daughter was growing up and sooner or later Rosemary would have to stand on her own. Rita couldn't protect her forever and that made her feel sick to her core. Failing to keep her composure and instead her true nature was shown to her daughter, calling scrutiny to her maternal character. Not a word was said. They were waiting for her response. She loosened her grip and straightened up and smoothing her blouse with a deep breath and looked at her daughter with a sorrowful expression. A sign of surrender and submission to her uncle's underlying manipulation. "Your uncle’s right. I’ll allow you to stay with him for a few weeks as you have wanted these past few months. Please forgive me of my late refusal." She couldn't renege on this deal now.  
Rita spoke, as she reinserted her motherly tone, "I'm sorry that I failed to see what you really wanted, and maybe it would be for the best, a change of scenery that is, to clear your mind. I just want you back in time for my wedding dear. Two weeks Rosemary, that I’m allowing you to stay with Niccolò." with a giant sigh from her lungs, before she saw her, Rosemary had her arms wrapping around Rita's waist, signalling a tight reinforcement of their bond that had been cracking over the years.  
Her protective side was coming through when she spoke two weeks looking at Niccolò. She saw his sensual smile and the edges of his lips curl even further. "Of course, two weeks will be fine, I'm just glad you came to your senses Rita." Rita detected that slight patronising tone that was also reflected in his eyes when she looked up from her daughter. 

 

Wrapping her hands around Rosemary, she enjoyed the sensation and rested her head on top of her daughters. Maybe Rita was wrong to judge Niccolò. Only time would reveal if she was right or wrong, however the fiend grin on his face looking Rita in the eyes made her stomach drop, as if to prove her thoughts right about him all along. God what had she done, only she could see his cunning devious look as her beautiful daughter rested her head on her shoulder. 

 

Beyond relief and joy that her mother allowed her to go. Rosemary saw this as a step in the right direction to repairing their relationship. It felt good to hug her mother once more and wrap her hands around her. Something she hadn’t done in quite some time. With the added warmth and comfort of the proximity of her body made it all the better. The news of her mother allowing her to go was not what she expected. Rosemary could finally see the mother she used to have all those years ago starting to come back and she would do just about anything to have that mother back.

 

Two weeks with her uncle, she wished it could be longer but two weeks were better than nothing. "You should go pack your bags Rosemary, I assume you're flying back to New Hampshire?" Rita, with a less obstinate tone letting her daughter go. "Yes, we will be, I've already organized our travel. Oh Rosemary, I suggest that you still pack some warm clothes it can still get cool during the evenings. I would hate for you to get ill before your mother’s wedding.” sliding from his chair and standing behind her now casting Rosemary in his shadow.  
She instantly turned to stare up at him with the sun against his body creating darker and sharper features and lines on his face. "Oh yes, of course uncle, I'll pack some warmer clothes as well." giving a shy smile at his dominant presence. Without further hesitation, she dashed off to hide her growing blush. Her uncle always had that effect on her.

 

She knew that these two weeks would have her on edge, watching her depressed daughter return to her youthful adolescent self with each long stride up the stairs to pack her bags. The intensity remained as Niccolò slowly took a few more steps, “Don’t look so worried Rita dear.” Amazed how she seem to quake and let him get the better of her authority, and in two single steps he stooped over her and with his brazen action to kiss her on the cheeks. And lean close ghosting her skin and breath on her earlobe.  
“Well I’ll see you again soon enough, two weeks will be plenty of time for my darling Rosemary and I” his voice dark and deep that didn’t put any faith in her choice.  
Effortlessly straighten up and casually strolled over to the door and waited for the taxi that he organised while she must have been talking. Plenty of time to do what?  
Rita felt a deep regret for saying yes, thank god her husband had taken the others out for a sudden lunch. What would he say if he knew what she knew? What she agreed to? It seemed she would never be unshackled from her past. With a past memory resurfacing from many years ago, another woman she had buried when she married into the Luciano family and never again seen.

 

‘Rita, my darling wife.’ Carlos cooed in her ear as he pinned her under his sturdy frame against the wall and binding both her arms under his predatory grip of his hands, as if to any passer-by, he was giving his newlywed wife an affectionate embrace, hiding the pain away behind her back and his body, as his nails gently pressed into her flesh and her lips molding to his needs and wants.  
The sudden memory left her dazed and confused in ways she hadn’t felt in such a long time, maybe it was spurred on by the touch of his lips against her skin, his quick clean sweep of his movements and his hot breath on her skin. The action and assertion of his authority was her husband all over and she was allowing her daughter to stay with this man for two weeks.

 

Rushing about she packed for both cooler and warm weather. It didn't take her long to pack all her necessities. A few choice books to keep her busy and her drawing equipment to continue her sketches that she had been working on. Within thirty minutes she was all set to go with her suitcase and backpack. She peered from afar and took in her uncle’s profile. All business with his tailored suits, not a feature out of place and not a day past 30. A man chiselled from marble that oozed perfection. She saw many of her physical attributes come from her father's heritage sharing her uncle’s olive complexion, though slightly lighter from spending less time in the sun. Her deep chestnut hair was a given as she knew her father also had chestnut colour hair and her mother's black hair. Her eyes were Hazel but gravitated closer to an olive-green colour. Very similar to her father’s eyes not a trace of her mother's pale blue grey eyes. Niccolò very much had all the same features her father had, she always thought they could be twins. His eyes shifted catching sight and locking onto her. His lips purse slightly at the sight of her she noted. Dressed in a long skirt, and floral blouse, Rosemary shuffled on her feet shifting her weight feeling his imminent gaze that made her self-conscious, it was impossible to consider looking into anything but his eyes. Why did she think this would be a good outfit when she could have worn jeans and a top? It's not that she looked bad, she thought they just happen to be the cleanest clothes she's got. Slowly he turned and prowled over to her, only mere inches away. With a quick swipe of his hands gathering her dark locks and brushing them behind her ear. Voice while deep remained pleasant, "You look alive once more compared to when I saw you this morning." giving A brief chuckle to try and cover the tension of nerves coming from Rosemary. 

 

Her mother wasn't too far and came over and pardon him so that she could speak without him near, while Niccolò took the luggage to the taxi at front. "I want you to message me every night, so I can sleep with comfort that you are alright. Rosemary, I might sound over protective, but please stay alert I'm only a phone call away.” Giving a slight pause before continuing, “I look forward to seeing you in two weeks my beautiful dear." feeling her soft lips give her one last kiss before Rosemary gave her a hug and moving towards her uncle waiting just outside the door watching this touching affair.  
"After you my dear." gesturing to the open taxi door. She gladly got in and her uncle closing the door after him and with a smirk upon his lips looking Rita directly in her eyes before the door closed completely.

 

She didn't really bother to listen to the small talk and hear the taxi driver drone on, instead fixating her gaze through the passing neighbourhoods that still felt strange to her regardless that she passed them every day on the bus. The thought of the school bus made her cringe knowing how grimy and sweaty they can get in the summer. Though she was thankful most times that Jasper dropped her off on his way to work being a school teacher at the private school, High Peaks. Probably the reason he also wanted her to go there, as well as Vivian, who just finished and was planning to go to college. After hearing her mother's revised negotiation, she could be willing to switch, it's not like she had many friends anyway and her current best friend was having her own issues to sort out. 

 

Zoning out was second nature to her now, that even her uncle's rich voice became obsolete. As result of her aloofness to the world she was easily startled by her uncle's grip on her lap, causing her to pull away instinctively and the squeak of her words, "Yes...uncle?” Unsure what he was asking her and thought it safe just to say yes and acknowledge him.  
His neutral gaze with an underlying tone of another emotion she couldn't quite put a finger to, made her blush with embarrassment and his response gently as he sooth her curly wild hair back made her feel even smaller, retreating further into the side of his protective stern body that strangely felt natural and nostalgic to her mind. She caught a glimpse of the middle age driver and his look of pity which made her wonder what her uncle had been saying these past minutes. Turning his gaze back on the road she too slowly pulled away returned to watch the scenery drift past until they reached the airport. 

 

"Come along Rosemary." authorial as ever, but and caring. Sliding across and out parked along the curb, and she takes her backpack while he takes her suitcase. Leading her through the busy airport of Philadelphia. She hasn't travelled in recent times and stuck close to him. She watched his mannerisms and his relaxed but formal movements that suggest he was a seasoned traveller giving the further reinsurance she needed while in the facility with hundreds of people moving. Giving the case over and checking in her carry-on luggage and turned to Rosemary. "Will have a layover at New York dear, time to get moving." Leading the way for her.  
It wasn't long before they boarded their flight and knowing her uncle, economy just wouldn't do, so they settled in their seats in business class and she felt congruent to her surroundings, unlike Niccolò who fitted in with all the rest of the professional men and women travelling for work reasons. If nothing else, Rosemary was grateful for her choice of wardrobe which was a bit more formal then casual jeans and top. Settling in for the short flight she plucked one of her novels and began to read. 

 

The girl that sat attentively reading beside him had grown up with little male influences on her life during her important adolescent years, now 16 and in the coming winter she'll be seventeen and so on. The more Niccolò watched her niece the greater resemblance he saw in her. From her generous chest size, in which her mother lacked but ran strongly among Luciano women, to her light olive complexion that came from her Italian heritage. The Hazel eyes on first glimpse, but up close and personal they were dark green, another trait from his late older brother. There was no denying that she was her father's daughter. It made him feel that territorial need to protect his brother’s offspring and keep her safe and slowly indoctrinate her into the family which was always going to be the case as his brother had started to do with her from her early adolescent years but remains incomplete. 

 

Niccolò planned methodically to shape her mind to carry on what his brother had started. He wondered what else was passed on to Rosemary by his brother. His lips curled at the thought and made him excited to learn more about the woman she was becoming. Though he needed to maintain his control and not to release the prowling beast beneath the surface all at once. Once they were alone he could slowly begin to dip his toes in the water and see her reactions to certain interactions.

 

Out of the corner of his eyes he was watching her and how easily she zoned out, whether she knew it was yet to be confirmed by his niece. It was reasonable that she still had quite a lot on her mind. If that phone call was any indication of her state of mind. Here and in the taxi earlier, the driver asked casually how they were and asked if she was alright after getting no response from Rosemary. Of course he couldn't help himself knowing her lack of awareness and turned the situation into his own benefit and pleasure. A pass time of his. 'Oh yes she is, she just struggles to interact with new people. Isn't that right darling girl.' her reaction couldn't be better, showing her timid side highlighting her fragility.  
The way she retreated into his body and stammered 'Yes... Uncle.' A small grin played on his lips at his ability to engineer the situation to manipulate the mind of the driver, painting her as a troubled unstable girl.

 

When he turned to look at her he saw her inviting deep green eyes peering up at him and her expression portraying her thoughts so openly. The way they narrowed slightly as her brow furrowed, looking and thinking of an answer to the question behind her eyes. Answers that he most likely could provide over a nice cup of tea or coffee. "It will be nice to catch up more, learn more about our family." Smiling back at her.  
Her expression changed instantaneous from curious to surprise and then the slight little smile starting to form and the growing glimmer in her eyes. It amazed him how quick her emotions changed however eager at the same time. Moving his hand up and gently stroking her hair he felt her give a slight sigh, unexpectedly she embraced his actions and relaxed slowly back into her seat. A growing sense of impatience below his surfaced purred with approval at her reaction. Little by Little she’ll come around. He kept his hand there for some time just providing little strokes of his thumb. Until he noticed the slight shift in her breathing to a deeper and slower rhythm.

 

His hand on her head took her by surprised at first but the tugging memory of it being her father’s hand made her loosen up all her senses and body and fell into a hypnotic state as his thumb pressed lightly into her skull and doing small circles. His hands had a hardness to them, a callous feel with his large hand resting on her head. Rosemary soon found the sensation a great welcome as she drifted off to sleep. A dream started to take form in her mind.  
Rosemary was looking at a younger version of herself at a guess close to 10, standing hunched slightly, looking through the crack of a door with her small hands bracing her. Soon the young girl’s vision replaced what Rosemary saw. Through the crack of the door a man stood stooped over a large office desk with paperwork, tall and built heavily with well-developed muscular structure. The man possessed a charming ruggedness to him that allowed him to own any space he was in. Short, but thick course hair, cut short on the sides with streaks of the odd grey against the chestnut hair, side burns neatly trimmed down the prominent jaw line and heavy stubble around his lips and chin that also presented patches of grey. Though signs of grey were ill refutable, Rosemary’s father was in his late thirties but still looked as fit and active as a man in his prime. From his profile, there was no smile just hard and sternness as his eyes looked out the window of the office. White shirt black vest and slacks. His shirt loosely tucked and his large hands sorting the paper work turning his attention to the manila folders. Turning into the vision fully catching the deep green eyes staring back at her, yet the neutral expression remained and so did the coldness. The girl moved back as the man approached the door and dashed back as the door open. His eyes empty and devoid of any glimmer or spark. Briefly looked back at her and paused for a moment, contemplating speaking to her but chose not too and walked away down the hall way without a word or greeting to her. 

 

Rosemary’s attention snapped to the sound of a door shutting behind her. Taken to another scene, the same man coming home and resting his brief case to the ground, with his suit jack in his other hand and hanging it on the coat rack. The girl peeping through the old polished wood balustrade poles. Crouched on the steps in her lovely winter dress with snow white long sleeve and white stockings. The man turned to look at the child before him, there was no light in his movements or expression. She was sure her heart was starting to race at this realisation.  
“Rosá” His voice seemed gravely as if he hadn’t spoken for some time. It was deep and full of his Italian accent.  
Her attention went straight to the girl on the stairs. She seemed just as surprised as Rosemary who stood in the archway of the living room off the entrance of the house watching as a spectator of this memory. Blinking a few times and slowly got to her feet. Her delicate throat bobbed before she spoke. “Papa”, the words were frail and weak compared to the man before her.  
His face remained blank and in response the girl crouched clasping the wooden pole. He said nothing more as he walked towards her up the stairs. Long powerful strides. The man didn’t once look at her and continued straight past her as if he hadn’t seen her. Apart of Rosemary ached to go tell her younger self that things would be alright.  
Rosemary was now convinced it was a memory and accurate to what she really remembered her father being. Every time he looked at her butterflies filtered in her stomach and made her extremely on edge and uneasy. Over time she grew quite fearful of his presence but at the same time desperate for his love, Rosemary was in a vicious cycle. This cycle was still happening now at the age of sixteen. The only difference was he had left her frozen in this deep desire and affirmation for him since his tragic passing. Slowly everything faded to black as reality started to seep through the dreamscape of her memories. 

 

“Rosá, Rosemary, were about to land” Her uncle’s voices reaching her groggy mind and giving a groan as she continues to wake up. A split second she thought it was her father just like the memory before.  
His hand was resting in her lap with warmth resonating from where it rested and at the loss of contact she could still feel the lingering sensation of it still resting there. The sense of energy arriving at New York and coming off the plane had a startling affect and a sense of uneasiness. Continuing his lead, Rosemary kept her attention solely on him. All she wanted was to be away from the crowded airport all together. The great sense of urgency remained in Rosemary, to breathe in that earthy fresh air into her lungs, to be swallowed up by wilderness that surrounded Niccolò’s place. She wanted peace and quiet time to recover. As if he could read her mind he spoke without looking at her. “Won’t be long dear until we leave behind the crowds of the cities. Is there anything that you want before our flight?” His voice strong and cool, as they came to a stop as they reach their designated gate for boarding.  
“Ah… no I’m not hungry uncle, but thank you for offering.” She says rather flustered caught off guard by his question.  
“We won’t be stopping until we arrive home my dear. I suggest you eat or drink something.” Turning to her looking rather sternly, and the sharpness of his words more of an order then an option.  
Similarly, the same way her father would get her to do things when they did speak and she couldn’t find it in her to disagree with him.  
“Ah yeah… A coffee would be great… please uncle.” Changing her mind trying not to displease him, continuing to sound flustered and on edge.  
A pleasant look replaced his furrowed brow. “Excellent, cappuccino, two sugars?”  
“How… did you know? Curiosity getting the better of her.  
“It’s what you use to have when you came to visit me all those years ago, did you forgot that my sweet Rosá. Don’t worry will have time to get reacquainted with each other? Why don’t you go freshen up while I get our coffees?” Showing his pristine white grin of his teeth briefly.  
She tried to ignore that other feeling or emotion that was sparking deep within at her core that sent shivers when he looked at her like that.  
Nodding in response she walks into the bathrooms to relieve herself. Coming out she stared back at herself in the mirror. Rosemary didn’t know the girl on the other side. Wearing warm palate of make-up yet retained her semi tamed chestnut curls and strands. The girl looked alive and full of spirit. The nagging feeling that maybe she was doing it all to please her uncle? The smile that appeared on her lips was a sight she hadn’t seen in long time. This feeling of joy was a refreshing breeze of change that she hoped would stay with her. Deep down she didn’t won’t a repeat of what happened to her grades and schooling. Rosemary wanted the change that would reclaim what was lost and take charge of her life. Straightening out her blouse and tucking it back into her skirt and headed back out to Niccolò. But even with the cheery mask she seemed to carry right now, the stress and anxiety was still in the background of her mind and wouldn’t leave, she only hope it wouldn’t surface while she was with her uncle.

 

Standing and waiting for her he looked like he was contemplating something deep in his mind, they way his eye's narrowed slightly showing his minor crows feet. Rosemary was wondering what he was thinking about. Soon joining him and the two of them find a table. Drinking their coffee her eyes gazed out the windows leading off to the runways and tarmac, letting her mind wonder to her thoughts, her troubled thoughts. Her peripheral vision caught Niccolò’s line of sight directed at her and his intense gaze setting her cheeks aflame in an array of pinks and reds. The fatigue from the lack of sleep that she’s had these past weeks were catching up to her. Rosemary’s vision blurred together She was struggling to concentrate, with his eyes making her feel so exposed to his power that he had over her. Rosemary tried to dismiss the stare while trying to re-focus her vision. He said nothing but she could tell that he was still looking and the longer she felt this vulnerability the more other background concerns started to push to the surface as well and she felt herself slowly slipping with her control to hold back her thoughts. 

 

This only started to occur over the last few months at the peak of her exams. Something she neglected to tell her parents, just passing it as stress. All the times she had a panic attack they were minor and could regain control so that no one ever noticed. But now she was unraveling in front of his eyes, out of all people to witness it, her uncle, who she was sure didn’t help her emotions and all these negative concerning thoughts. Looking around time seemed to blur and people merged with one another to form an endless stream of movement while she sat still. Thoughts of her father, best friend, her social life, all entwining with each other overloading her ability to see sense and think straight. She could see that Niccolò was speaking to her but couldn't seem to register his words.

 

Convinced by her own eyes and mind that she was going crazy. This hallucination became so real at the sight of her stoic father gazing right into her eyes, she saw her father’s troubled distant eyes, those deep lines in his forehead when he frowned. What was happening, this isn't real. Breath Rosemary! Details down to the grey within his dark hair set her heart pounding at how crystal clear he was compared to everyone. Not a detail missing from her memory of her father just as he was all those years ago. The perfect reconstruction of the man she held in complete awe and fear. The approach of his elongated strides didn’t falter against myriad of people. Stuck frozen in fear and shock and locked out of control. She was conscious to know it wasn’t real but her heart and emotions proved to hold her motor skills hostage. Finally he stood before her lanky and menacing but handsome to her eyes, that she longed for. How could a man be all those things? Bending down to her level she saw his clear dark green eyes that matched hers. During these few moments everything froze in time and a numb sensation spread across her. Ghosting her arms his hands moved up looking to grip her slender shoulders. “You are a Luciano by far. You will always be mines. You will be his.” Chilling and dark with his foreign tongue, it made her core wake like her body was being called by its master.  
Her mind was telling her to give into her father's words, but she just couldn’t let go of her morality like that. But if her mind was always thinking that maybe she was capable of crossing that familial bonds and roles that got blurred in her dreams. Her body fought for control without realising the tremors that had started until she felt a sting of warmth against her soft skin covered in warm liquid from the cup of coffee. Rosemary slowly returning and exacerbated further by her uncle's hand giving a gentle squeeze of her thigh.  
His voice like a whisper and a guiding light to her, “Rosemary, come back to me.” His voice alert and concerned.  
“Where…am I...” pausing and angling her head to see him eclipse her view, “Uncle… Niccolo?” Lost in confusion she felt sick from her episode and a slight headache starting to occur.  
Moving closer and pulling her chair to face him and hands sliding along her cheeks, that were warm and sweating from her mental lapse, guiding her stare at him and unable to look away from him. As he increased his tightness.  
“Rosa, tell me what did you see?” His voice soft but sharp.  
“I… I don’t remember… just everything blurred together and I couldn’t seem to control what was happening… an outer body experience. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said anything.” Frazzled with her predicament of the passing episode, but was surprised that no one seemed to notice the two sitting rather close proximity of each other and his hands continue to rub along her lap and thigh. It was a lie and she hoped he bought it, Rosemary wasn't prepared to tell him that she hallucinated her father.  
She makes a move to pull away but his hands were much quicker to slide around her chin and hold firm that it started to hurt and scrunched her eyes shut.  
“Please…I’m just tired… I haven’t slept well in recent time’s uncle… I’m sure that’s all it.” What was she saying?  
Was that the first thing that came to mind to try and down play what just happened? She felt more ashamed and confused more than anything else.  
“Deep breaths darling.” Pulling her up into an intimate loving embrace, that to anyone who did look would see only the man’s love for his little girl or niece.  
“I just want to rest and sleep Uncle” Her voice shifting pitch following her deep breathing.  
“Don’t talk dear just breath and listen to me if that helps?” Leaning in to give a chaste kiss on the forehead and the rumble of his deep beautiful voice made her calm her mind and hear his pounding heart as she synced her breathing to his until they were one in the same.

 

“Attention all passengers travelling to Concord, the plane is now boarding at gate 9. Please make your way to check in.” The women’s voice alerting Rosemary to the present environment and almost panic and pulled away until he stopped her once again.  
“It’s alright Rosemary were not in a rush.” Keeping her in place for a few more moments and continuing to study her wild eyes before they began to make their way to the gate. Rosemary couldn’t explain it at all. It felt that her uncle was everything she dreaded but everything she desire, how could she possible feel stable with this heavy load on her mind. 

 

Seated against the window in her seat, she soon found herself lulled by the engine of the plane and as her eyes grew heavy, Rosemary felt his lips once more on her skin and lingered there before he spoke so gently in her ear, ‘sweet dreams dear.’

 

She slept so peaceful his beautiful darling niece. It bothered him deeply to see what he saw before. It seemed Rosemary was clearly in need of sometime away, but he saw a deeper serious issue that even she wasn’t wanting to admit to him anytime soon or her parents. Well now that he was aware of it he would certainly make an effort to discuss it with her, no he would delve deeper into her mind and go right to the core were he could work his skills the most. He already knew that she was mentally unstable hence vulnerable. Knowing what was said all those years ago between Carlos and the family about the future of his daughter. It thrilled a deeper primal side of him to see her struggle to find an identity that she was comfortable with. Watching her eyes glaze over and her delicate wrist starting with small tremors and slowly growing noticeable and then her knees quivering as well. She was stressed that was obvious, beside the unfinished conditioning her father started he sensed it was more than that but other life combinations adding this and resulting in weak frame of mind and other mental issues. If anything his brothers conditioning was still haunting her mind or well ingrained into her. He allowed a smirk on his lips, knowing how well Carlos was at mind manipulation as he is. Her breathing remained deep and long with the rise and fall of chest and growing curves of her breast and the slight part of her lips glistening along her inner lip as she breathed through her mouth. Gently he pulled back a strand of her hair back behind her ear. Getting the family psychiatrist to pay a visit would certainly be an option to him. With his main profession of accounting and varies family work at hand it wouldn’t hurt to see what else was lurking in her mind. It wouldn’t be long until they arrived in the cool climate near the ranges and deep forest that surrounded his place after a few more hours of driving. He greatly accepted the offer of a drink as the hostess poured a glass of red wine for him.

 

Feeling the gradual pressure change in the cabin Rosemary woke as they were descending and preparing to land. Looking at her uncle who was just about to put aside a book back into his case and watched him as he continued. She was still tired from the on and off sleep that she had gotten while her uncle looked less affected by their travelling. Closing the case he sat back up and caught sight of her and gave a smile of sorts. “Darling your awake”  
She couldn’t be bothered to speak so just a nod seemed efficient. His brow retracted and frowned at her lack of words.  
“Darling are you feeling well?” The words feeling a bit more intrusive then what he usually speaks and quite blunt to hear.  
“Yes, of course I’m well.” Lying through her teeth and the look that Niccolo was giving her told her he was far then convinced.  
“Rosemary.” She could see he wasn’t going to stop and Rosemary didn’t think she could bring herself to lie to her uncle any further then what she has.  
He saw right through her, there was something dangerous that wasn’t there before in her uncle’s eyes that made her stomach flip inside. Of course he would ask her. There was no avoiding it, after the episode before boarding.  
“Uncle… this isn’t the time place. Please just drop it.” Staring strong but the words just felt like a fake façade trying to show her strong will.  
Only further convincing him that everything was not okay with her.  
He didn’t speak but a sharp gleam in his gaze remained. The silence was becoming unbearable. The captain’s announcement broke intensity and he merely spoke with a blunt tone that made her on edge.  
“Don’t think this is over dear, will talk about it later. I’m only looking out for your mental health.” Words spoken calmly with a hint of paternal charge creeping in.

 

They navigated their way out of the airport and she felt the slight chill in the air when they finally stepped outside she took a few steps away and stood there and felt the breeze ruffle her hair. Even though it was summer it still had its cooler days up north. The fresh air was liberating to her lungs after being cooped up in an airplane. Feeling a great weight began to slowly fade away until Rosemary’s lungs inhaled the sweet summer breeze and brief image was taking form in her mind. The dark ominous fog begins to dissipate gradually clearing away to show the path ahead of her, with Niccolo standing mere feet ahead, hands casually tucked into his suit pants and toothy smile and the silver streaks through his dark coarse hair. His lips move but no sound comes from them and everything seems to slow.  
“Rosá, Rosá, darling.” At his touch she’s brought out of her day dream to his harsh tone and grip on her shoulder.  
“Uh…Yes Niccoló.” Cheeks blooming with embarrassment.  
His eyes give no light or his toothy smile but neutral and tight. His stare made her avert her gaze and his brow furrows with annoyance. “Come dear, the cars packed and ready.”  
Ready? How long was she standing there? Looking down there was no sign of her backpack and suitcase. A plundering feeling of insecurity and worry swelled in her chest at her lack of conscious.  
“Rosa, it’s time.” His patience waning.  
Afraid to keep him waiting any longer she swiftly took a seat. The car looking to be a newer model of an Audi, though cars were not her expertise as long as it got to point A to B, Rosemary didn’t really care. Settling her spine along the plush upholstery and immediately felt her back relax further into the seat. He closed the door for her and join her across from her in the driver seat. Reverberating purr of the engine coming to life was soothing running from her feet up into her chest. However the encroaching silence was the elephant in the empty space.

 

“Com'è il tuo italiano, caro?” Asking abruptly revealing little in his expression of his question.  
Startling Rosemary out of her trance. Not once did he look at her. Mind kicking in to translate his question. While she spoke Italian well, translating took a bit longer.  
“Bene, zio.” She replies, with drifting eyes on passing forest as they begin their drive out to his property.  
“Just well, Rosa?” his voice with faint curiosity.  
“I’m doing well to maintain around an A and B plus if that’s what you want to know uncle.” Looking back at him with his eyes unyielding from the road. He didn’t immediately respond and she would have been glad if her uncle would just drop the topic because her tolerance for talking was also waning.  
“I know I’ve seen your report dear and I must say I’m pleased you haven’t dropped your work ethic with the language but unlike your other classes-” Rosemary was done with this topic regardless of her uncle's view on her performance she would rather the rest of the car trip be in utter silence then talk about her schooling. Her mouth spoke before her mind had truly thought it through and the consequences.  
“Yeah I know, I’ve messed up this year, I don’t need the constant reminders from you as well.” She had finally snapped and her tone rather bitterly and vocal.  
The mood dropped to a tension that made her stomach queasy when there was no response from him and only the pur of the engine. The fact that she had no idea what he thought or could do frightened her the most and his eyes became darker then she’s seen in him before. Lips drawn tight and face with resting deep lines in his brow.  
“Uncle?” airing on the side of caution.  
She slowly began to notice that the car was coming to a rapid stop and the seat belt straining against her chest until they had completely stopped and back slammed into the seat. The abrupt change in environment sent her heart aflutter.  
“Niccoló I-” Faster then she could imagine him moving, he put his index finger to her quivering lips that she stopped talking. Eyes sharper and greener reminding her of a serpent, as she felt his warm skin against her moist lips.  
“Sshh mia bella, brash suites a child not a young woman.” Seizing her chin graceful motion but his voice a lethal calm and gentle down to a whisper, like a lover, but his words betrayed what his eyes promise, something dangerous and lustful, a look that she had caught her father with when he didn’t think she noticed him looking at her sometimes. Those same deep green eyes belonged in her father as well. The sudden image of her father holding her chin replacing her uncle. His slender finger pressed against her lips starting to gently push them apart.  
“Uncle… I-I-I’m sorry for my in-insolent.” Mumbling against his finger and restricted chin, petrified by his gaze that cuts deep into her regretting lashing out on him. What more could she say. His grip remained firm and unrelenting. The image of her father stood firm when she looked her uncle in the eyes as if they were one in the same.  
“Good girl.” Giving a kiss on her forehead contradicting his previous actions with sudden intimacy and releasing her chin from his hands. Left Rose even more confused and lost within her thoughts about her uncle. The feelings Rosemary felt were conflicting thoughts she hadn’t felt in many years, for the fact that her father’s been dead for six years and now resurfacing emotions are coming from just Niccoló's proximity and actions. Cheeks sure to be a bright tinge of red or at least burning from humiliation and embarrassment.  
“I’m sorry dear, you know I do what I do because I love you and care for my brother’s only daughter. Why don’t you close your eyes for a while, your obviously tired and you need your sleep?” Reigniting the engine and driving once more and attention purely on the road ahead.  
“Yes, Niccoló.” Gradually coming to her senses and voice filled with guilt. Slowly curling up, feeling the mild warmth that he projected onto her through the ducts and she was glad to fall asleep curling up tight in the seat trying to forget the brew of thoughts of the two of them being one in same or that she could even possibly see herself desiring her uncle. Just as her hallucination indicated that she would be his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading  
> I've been putting this off for lack of commitment to want to proof read now that my editing style has changed and takes a lot longer to proof read my work. But would like to change that in the near future, might go with monthly publication will see how i go.  
> feel free to give a like or leave feedback  
> I apologies for any grammar errors.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> home sweet home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a turn that i hadn't planed for originally towards the end, hopefully for the better. This happens to be way longer then i first envisioned. Hope you enjoy

# Belonging of the Heart

* * *

## Chapter 4

* * *

Rosemary dazed and disorientated to where she was, slowly as she got her bearings. Faint light was coming through the sheer curtains illuminating the space in a golden glow of the fading summer light. A new found growing sense of security and comfort resting on something soft and a blanket casually draped over her legs to keep her warm. Rising gingerly from her sleep, Rosemary's spatial awareness came alive in noting the large bedroom she was in. The flood of reinsurance at the familiar varnish mahogany floor boards that run throughout her uncle's house. Contrast the neutral colour walls and ceilings and tying in with the dark wooden beams that overpowered the pale light colours as well. Niccoló’s taste was nothing but fine Italian styling, with granite and marble used generously in the house spaces. Pushing herself to the edge of the beautiful warn four post bed and plush duvet covering. Feeling insignificant to this finery and pillows that adorn her room. At sixteen Rosemary was still too small for this bed. Swallowed whole by the overwhelming charm of the room and the house itself. Planting her feet onto the ground. Wincing at the image on how she would have gotten to her bedroom that was upstairs and just a few doors down from her uncle's room, if she remembered the house layout correctly. The distinct image of her uncle carrying her up to her room made her cheeks blush. Blood tingling at the thought of the close proximity against his chest. Rosemary was thankful that she was asleep.

Before getting further distracted, Rose pushed her way, lightly treading on the cool floorboards and glance in the mirror. In her day clothes plus the slight creases in her blouse from sleeping in them and ruffled hair. Pausing to look somewhat presentable, running her hand through her hair before wondering beyond the threshold of her bedroom. Luxurious and perfection didn't quite describe his home to justice. Rosemary knew that her father's family was from old money, or new? She didn't really know, beside that fact that they were well set financially and had a long successful large family tree. Possibly another reason why Rita avoided the Luciano family at all cost. The dark beams menacing and encroach with a hollowness as Rose strolled cautiously down the hall to the set of stairs leading to the main entrance. Slowly with each step she admired the carvings within the balustrade and the many priceless paintings and sculptures that lined the walls and shelves, it was hard not to marvel at the grandeur of it all.

Her uncle must be close by, there was no sign of him upstairs with no lights turned on. As the sun slowly turns to night and transforms her environment, gradually into tinges of dark oranges and pinks in the surrounding rooms. Out of the corner of her eye a group of photos caught her attention. A series of photos of Carlos and herself as a very young child and as a toddler. The lively and bright smiles on their faces was hard to comprehend with the last few memories Rose truly recalled. Within those photos were most likely her aunts and uncles, even picking out a younger Niccolò among the group of people. Those innocent shiny eyes full of love and kindness matching her father's enchanting green eyes was astounding. Pictures of her running and playing and even being shared around her aunts and uncles in a few more photos. Skimming across the photos she stopped at one with her sitting between two people who presumable might be her grandparents, it was hard since she doesn’t remember them clearly. While they fair age they had natural grace about them and her father standing behind the couch the three of them sat on, it resembled the perfect family. The perfect family she didn’t have. 

Rosemary knew the influence of nostalgia and the havoc it could do on her mind. Upon gazing at those old photographs it triggered faded memories that maybe weren’t accurate but what she could remember of sorts. Gazing to both sides of the entrance, the formal parlour on the left and the kitchen past the dining room to her right. These same rooms were in a few of the photographs. As the light fades her mind starts to wonder to these old faint memories and she struggles to keep her mind focused. Now standing in the entrance of the home looking to both rooms on either side feeling even more lost. The urge to call for Niccoló was strong but it soon passed the longer she stood there.

The sudden beautiful illusion of her mind taking control from her willpower as it renders a phantom family sitting with each other in the sitting room. The jovial language of both English and Italian sounded, creating a harmonic ring, with wine glasses clinking with each other. It was sweet somehow to see this unity that was locked away to her mind or most likely wasn't even a memory at all, she couldn't tell, but if it was a memory it was one that she couldn't easily recall instantaneously. Bitter to watch while she was living a life that seemed to slip by her each day. Her mother wasn't in the scene which maybe hinted at her own alienation. Unfolding in the sitting room. Another woman with black long curls that swept across half her face reclined on the chaise long with a curvaceous form. Lounging with a lazy smile watching the child. Maybe one of her aunts she could not remember? With pale green hazel eyes, the pure little girl with ribbons in her hair was looking up to her father. His distinct dark chestnut hair that showed signs of grey, who was in deep conversation with his brother and the occasional glance down at her. Which kept her captivated by his mysterious eyes and looks he cast down at younger Rosemary. The odd but charming smile he maintain added to the pang of envy in her chest at how he looked at this young girl. Why couldn't he always be like that? The envy was manifesting in to something ugly progressing into anger.

Rosemary's head snapped at innocent giggles from behind, off to the looming hallway past the stairs and the same girl running down the hall and the heavy steps of her uncle as he tailed her skidding on her fresh white socks and finally sweeping little Rose up and splayed kisses up her neck while tickling her. Things were easier and simple when she was little. Envy remained the overwhelming emotion to what she saw and it stung deep in her heart.  
As the last light dipped behind the trees the sound of a click from a light. Switch drew her attention. A new vision was forming in the sitting room and it was her father switching the lamp on and pulling the little girl closer and further over his lap as he begin to read. His voice was an illusion, a trick of her mind's creation, it had to be. The sweet baritone rumble of pure hardy masculinity. At one stage he was speaking sweet Italian to her even though that little girl might not have understood a single word. It was the committed adoration the child had in her eyes that Rose could see. Rosemary's blood humming like electricity in her veins. But in reality he was stoic and seemed unmoved by the people around him. He may have been firm but he never yelled with his mouth but his eyes did the work his mouth would not.  
"Papa", Rosemary mimic softly just like the child did on his large lap and reaching out to the two figures.  
These happy moments that play around her contradict her everyday memory. Also her emotions and feelings of loneliness and sadness that she had grown acquainted with over the last few years. But at the root of the sadness it was so simple and innocent: A girl who was love-starved and longed with a burning hunger for her daddy. Rosemary was drowning in her overwhelming emotions. To allow this indulgence of nostalgia was a dangerous game. Like a drug that would only highjack her mind and she would render all control to her burning heart just to feel this sense of identity of belonging even if it was false. 

Voices continue to ring with shrill laughter and the beautiful sound of her name rolling off in Italian, 'Rosá, tesoro.' Another sequence was taking place around her.  
She didn't want to look. Legs quivering with each shuffle until Rosemary felt her hands against the Tuscan rug at the bottom of the stairs and knees skimming its fine threads. This was no lapse of time or zoning out but full hallucinations that were a part of her fucked up subconscious. 

Stealing a glance to the kitchen the lights were on but no obvious sign or sounds of pans or movement. The presence of herbs helped ground her to reality for brief periods and reminds Rosemary that her uncle was in this house. Somewhere which only added to her panic drawing rapid breaths faster then she could handle. These voices needed to stop without raising a commotion. "Please... P-Please stop, Papa." hands pressing against the side of her head to try and block out the sounds, while Rosemary's doubled over herself.

Her mind soon replied over the myriad of voices, ‘Why stop? Isn't this what you always wanted and desired, to belong and feel accepted by daddy dearest? Look, you could enjoy these memories if you just lifted your head, isn't that what Carlos wanted for you?  
"No... I-I mean yes, but not like this." Her eyes filled with hot tears and streamed down her face silently she didn’t want to believe it.  
No, how about what goes through your mind at night when you’re alone in your bedroom? Do you deny those lustful thoughts that make you?  
"No I WON'T." Rosemary's voice screams hoarsely and the eerie silence last all but five seconds and the sound of hurried footsteps, freezing her in place like a block of ice.  
Staying quiet was too painful to bear with her raw throat releasing strangled sobs of pain and utter confusion. Footsteps grew louder and louder. She was emotionally drained to translate what he was saying, with his rapid frantic tone in Italian.  
"Rosá, deep breaths for me darling, let me help you." Pulling her into his body as she continued to cry into his crisp white dress shirt. His continuous hushes and comforting words slowly brought her back to reality enough for herself to refocus her attention on him.  
"Dolce Rosá" He spoke lovingly, while cupping her cheeks. His eyes sparkled with pity in them.  
"I'm so…sorry uncle, something is wrong with me, I don't want to be like this. I want it to go back to being simple when my father was alive." Stammering through the quivering lips and she looked into his eyes.  
She reached out to him because she believed Niccoló could fix her. Maybe even discover her and put her on the right path.  
"Show me closure to these memories and thoughts that plague my sick mind." Clinging and pull firm against the cotton fabric and burying her head into the warm chest of her uncles. His hands rubbed her back to try and sooth her mind and body.

"Yes the accounts been set up and ready for the transaction for the proposed deal."  
"You'll have to speak to Giovanna regarding the negotiation. You know that's not my area of the business brother.”  
"No Dante I haven't, don't go telling ma and pa about her being with me and don't even think about dropping in for a visit, She wouldn't recognise you either way.”  
"Well brother it was good speaking to you, yes will talk later." Ending the phone call and placing it on top of his desk leaning back as he watched how his study transformed into the twilight.  
Serving as a reminder that dinner still needed to be finish before getting delayed by his younger brother calling. Now that his niece was here Niccolo would have to try and keep his work life in check for the interim of her stay and avoiding any issues that could arise having her here. Lord help if his parents found out. A cheeky memory of his ma smothering her in kisses the last time she saw dear Rosemary. With one thought leading to another he thought to go see if she'd woken from her sleep. Not even pulling up to his home along the gravel drive or him cradling her up to get to the bedroom could wake her. 

She was troubled in the mind and he suspected it was only going to get worse if no one intervened. The silence of the house was disrupted by a hideous scream, the voice strangled and desperation within it. The feminine yell could only be one thing, his darling Rosa. His vicious shove from his desk saw his hurried feet carry him to his niece at once not wasting a second. 

Rosemary was a beautiful mess underneath the bird nest of brown tangled locks. Face of pure loss of direction and resign to grief. Oh how it made his heart beat through and through at the thought of her mental state so volatile, adding to her fragility and the need to protect and guide her. Looking at Rosemary now, what he saw was beyond what he imagined her state of mind would be like. While yes it would be so easy for him to manipulate her and use her, Carlos would want to take it slow with her. Now that he was dead it was up to him to continue what his brother started all those years ago.

Her future was in his arms as he continued to stroke her hair and back. With what he's observed just today he would feel confident that she was suffering from some triggered psychosis state. It explains her anxiety, stress and lack of sleep, all factors of inducing a mental breakdown that had been building for some time now. Gathering her ragged body in his arms and striding over to the counter in the room across the left of the entrance and into the kitchen and sat her up on the cool granite bench. Hands working fast to sooth her with a glass of water in one hand and tucking strands of hair away to help him see her sweet face. The clammy sweat on Rosemary’s forehead dripping down, disguised the tears that were clearly evident from the redness of her eyes. "Dolce Rosá, small sips for me darling." With light tip of her head back with fingers under her chin.  
Her resistance was minimal and gladly allowed his hands to do the work for her. His lips couldn't hide that imperious smirk and inside himself could feel that lurking lustful desire. Breathing slowly stabilising as his long strokes down her back and quivering lips as he watched her find courage to speak between fits of sobs.  
"This nostalgia and memory... Combined W-with my subconscious... Uncle why... Why can't I move forward and stop feeling weak and lay my father to rest." She let a desperate choked howl as he held her even tighter.  
"Because you never said goodbye. Your mind is conflicted with what memories you had of your father, and what society has shown you what morally supportive role a father should be." His tone fell with a timber edge as he moved his body to be standing in front of her. Nonchalantly parted her dangling legs to stand between them and leaned into her delicate ear. 

Noticing her eyes scrunching up as he neared, her wrecked body slowing down to a docile calm. "But those memories are very real of your father. Believe me when I say those sweet moments do exist, you just need help sorting through that fucked up mind of yours." gently breathing on her skin and with a soft blow, down past her ear down her neck her skin pebbled with goose bumps.  
Niccolo felt her tense against his hold for a few moments but relaxed with acceptance for her situation. Moving his skilful fingers along her thighs casually dipping just past her skirts end. He heard the apparent gasp escape her lips at what must feel like electricity as her body was warming to his touch. "Do you trust me? Do you Trust Uncle Niccoló to help you unbound you from your inner chains holding you back?" With each word his greedy hands went further up her smooth warm skin and around those supple curves of her ass cheeks, feeling her cotton undergarments hug her skin, imagining his hands doing that and not her underwear.  
"My Rosá will you let me in. Into those thoughts that shroud you. That you wish to keep secret. In the places you guard from others." His voice low and calm.  
Even her heart seemed to already submit to his voice beating slowly lulled by his intoxicating words. Pausing just briefly before his eagerness won over and the swiftness of his hands around her and pulled her halfway off the bench with her resting up against him. Already that slight thrum of arousal with his distraught niece nestled against him made him want give into those primal thoughts that vied for release. To take her right there and pushed back, framed against the cool granite surface as he opened her up. But of course the astute and wise uncle remained in control this time, because in taking her right here would be too soon and spoil her like a rotten apple and do more damage than good. His breath leaving a warm vapour coating her soft skin along her neck. 

With gentle kisses on her jawline he felt lines blur between his world and the world of society. Going further was only natural to him, certainly growing up with a unique family dynamics has proven otherwise how easy and natural it can be. But was his niece there yet? To accept that dynamic and desire to be free and unimpeded. He paused and pulled away slightly to glimpse Rosemary who sat wide eyed and breathing with more vigour then an resting heartbeat she had before he pulled her right up against him. He could sense it behind those deep green eyes. That spark of black and desire was burning deep and true. The air in the room seemed to intensify. His hands braced beside her body as he leaned over her, keeping his breathing in check. Already he was calculating possible reactions from his Rosá from this somewhat brash intimate proximity. She would accept or reject his advances, he prayed she accepted. 

Rosemary was lost in the richness of his words, the way they roll on his tongue and holds them a tad too long adding the slight confusion between English and Italian. He said nothing but everything at the same time in just A few sentences. Niccoló’s eyes were hungry and fierce with energy that he was withholding from her. The ghosting of her skin and his words woke what she didn't want to face. Kick starting her heart and at his physical contact she gave a gasp of shock but to her horrified mind, pleasure, coxed that gasp from her small mouth, at the thought of feeling her uncle's mouth along her neck for a brief moment. The warm trail of his breath making her burn deep down for need, and his bold stroke of his hands cupping her ass only aggravated her want. Every red flag waving in front of her foolish eyes at her uncle’s perversion. But for some reason her heart saw passed that, slowly craned her head to see him shrouded in shadows as the sun fades into darkness. Contrasting his face in various sharp light.

She should stop this right now, as this can't end well. Rosemary should say no but her heart said yes. Regardless of what state of mind she was in, Rosemary saw what her uncle was. While disturbing and sickening, it was as if her secret and deep thoughts manifest into a person being her uncle. Everything was alluring to her, in so many ways, but how can she stop, let alone act on her raging impulse. Actions speak louder than words sometimes. Leaning into his towering shadow Rosemary enclosed her legs around his waist and snaked her hands up to his nape of his neck. "I-I-I Trust you... Niccoló … I want to learn more about my family, please I just want to be normal and be happy again." Pushing her head to his chest she breathed in his cologne, with that musky smell that made her almost drunk on her raging hormones.  
"And I will do the best to help find who you truly are and to see that once bright Rosá I knew, back when you were a child." Taking her in his looming embrace and holding Rose against his chest for some time.  
Only the sound of their breathing could be heard and the fading bird squawks out in the wilderness. That lustful energy simmered down to an intimate tenderness that was warmth and fatherly. How she barely remembered her father holding her like this. Maybe when she was simply a little girl. His voice was first to break this bizarre instance.  
"Now my angel wash up while I finish cooking dinner for us." Lifting her up like a feather and placing her down as she unwrapped her legs from him.  
Giving one last familial peck he turned his attention to dinner preparations, just like that, snuffing the frenzy energy they shared completely. Rosemary felt her emotions pull in different directions. Dazed for a moment until he spoke as though her legs were waiting for his next commands to move. "Go shower and dinner will be ready." His tone rich and firm motivating her body to do as it was told.  
It almost felt like it never happened at all. 

Even in the bathroom the affluent dark wood was a dominant trait that contrasted against the Italian marble counter tops and the dark colour veins in the marble. The squeak of the golden coloured tap fittings rang in the air as a burst of hot water soon sprayed down. Only to laden into smothering steam around Rosemary. Making it a second skin as she disregarded her layers. The divide in her mental state would not pipe down, one half wished she tugged a bit tighter at her uncles clothes, reciprocated his languid movement against her skin. Pausing in the steam to contemplate her choices. Why yes, she was alone with him, Rosemary really could do anything. That even mean giving into her thoughts that were starting to bloom about her uncle as well as her father. 

Graciously dipping her foot into the source of the steam, her toes curled up at the sudden contact of hot water and pulling away. Adjusting the taps further, Rosemary cut through the smouldering white vail and hissed at the pleasurable sting of hot water on her body. As every second and minute passed all her troubles and dazed thoughts seemed to dissipate and wash away. Leaning against the cool glass, soon warmed from body heat, and the water angled upon her bare body covering her like a blanket of warmth and pleasure. Her mother's words rang in her mind 'I'm only a call away.’ Leading to the next thought of calling Nat this evening upon calling her mother first. Banishing those grey thoughts of morality and sanity for a later time period that was bound to rise up again this evening. 

The thought of doing something so natural to any teenager, like spending time on the phone, provided Rosemary with new found life and energy. Though not before enjoying a long awaited shower. Pausing and stopping in her thoughts she breathed deeply and zoned out to all her body receptors. While combined senses, it seemed overwhelming, but by focusing on one at a time she found it manageable. She'd self-discovered it as a coping mechanism for her onset of anxiety attacks and when she just lost grip of her mind. The sound of rushing water soon turned to a pleasant cascade sound of constant rumble of water with the increasing condensation coating her skin. Rosemary let a series of bubbling giggles escape her wet lips and a sense of pure joy for once which seemed odd considering what she’s been through today. The marvellous pressure being applied to Rosemary's skin was unending and the need to always feel it, was in a sense addicting to her mind in a way. Ruining her newly Soaped hands along the skin felt even more intoxicating with a euphoric edge to her languid hands touching every part to her. From heavy shapely breast, to the ripe point of her nipple down to the sides and more of her sensitive erogenous zones. Letting slip relaxed gasps and moans. Opening the floodgates to her naughty hormonal teenage desires to be touched and loved by a man and not some squeaky gangly boy still trying to fill out or who's 'balls' have yet to 'drop'. 

Some days she wished she skipped adolescent stage and missed all the awkwardness, like a marionette entwined on its own strings. Another burst of laugher at the very image made her smile, all that much real and not a plastered facade to try and fit into the status quo. The Image of a girl touching herself in the shower screamed everything Rosemary wished she wasn't, desperate, needy and just straight out a fucking horny teenager where her better judgement got lost at times. But at the same time she would barely class herself as an typical teenager, she wasn't obsessed by image of one self or trying to hook up with boys and watch porn or sneaking in a couple of drinks or so called recreational use of drugs and smoking. She was the opposite, the lover of romance and fictional books. Academic inclined, the introvert amongst the extroverts in a group. 

The night had taken root in the sky, darkening the windows and letting the chandelier take centre stage in the formal dining room. Feeling too big for two but strangely all so small as Niccoló waltz into the room carrying in dishes and setting the table for them. Entering meekly into the formal setting. A room from the looks of it, did get used to a degree with no obvious signs of neglect or dust to the cabinets and chairs. While the house was fairly modernised there was still the presence of character of a more formal time period such as the dark beams. Maybe even some of the cabinetry was antique too. Niccoló never missed a beat when Rosemary first entered, standing awkwardly trying to blend in with the tall antique vase. "Precious dear come take a seat. Idleness isn't what you do best, sit my girl." Commanding her to be seated in the chair he was leaning on.  
He buzzed with such youthfulness that it was impossible to say no. Rosemary knew those words weren't just for play but asserting himself with his crafty tone. Taking a seat he gently pushed her in securing her position at the table. While it seemed over formal for just the two of them and a lot of work gone into dinner that sat in front. Rosemary felt her lips curl into a sensual gentle smile and felt appreciated for once. Rose couldn't remember the last time someone went to great efforts to make her feel welcomed and embraced with kind gestures. All the while she watched his confident movements around the table as he set the plates and cutlery. Hearing the synonymous popping sound of a cork behind her back. Nimble footsteps against the floorboards alerting her to Niccoló’s presence directly behind her. Reaching over her left with a fine wine glass in one hand and around her right to pour the deep crimson liquid into the glass with the other. Creating a looming cage with his own body shrouding her in shadows beneath him. The fine cotton threads of his shirt brushes against her nape, simultaneously cause shivers down her spine. As awkward and flustered as she felt, Rosemary wasn't sure what to say about this gesture for her to enjoy a drink. Never had her mother let her drink before. 

Not a word was said even as Niccolò dished up a plate of what could only be described as beautiful home cooking, made with love. The intermingling smell of fresh earthy herbs combined with rich red wine sauce that smothers the tender beef and tied all together with the handmade pasta creating a lovely beef ragu. Beyond impressed that he somehow had time to do all this. Her stomach grumbled at the mouth-watering food. Finally the scrape and groan of the chair as Niccolò sat down at the head of the table beside her. Gently her hands fidget under the table.  
"Eat and drink my dear." lifting a glass and watching the red liquid coat his lips.  
"Drink?" Apprehensive as she took hold of the glass.  
"Why of course dear you’re old enough to drink within our family, believe it or not some would feel offended if their guest didn't drink." Chuckling so freely.  
"Yes of course uncle." Taking a sip and gingerly swallowing the liquid leaving a bitter tart taste in her mouth coughing with her first try of wine.  
Responding with burst of laughter at Rosemary's reaction to the wine making her feel a bit embarrassed.  
While the food left her tastebuds dancing with a strong desire for more as the tender beef pieces melted with the slightest bite with the fluffy pasta soaking up the beautiful sauce that went with it. This peace would not remain forever.

The sweet enjoyment of dinner with her uncle took a bitter turn. The inevitable about talking about the elephant in the room. No small talk or sweet words could ever cover up her instability and mental welfare. That carried an awkward atmosphere between the two.  
"Rosa, we need to talk." His tone loosing that sweetness taking on a harsh edge to his words.  
"I'd rather not." softly spoken.  
"Speak up Rosemary if you want to be heard." Reprimanding her as he took a sip of wine.  
"I said I'd rather not talk about what happened today." Scaring the quiet little mouse away and replaced with the fierce energy of a cat in her tone and demeanour.  
"That's not an option." Cutting straight to the point and pinning his eyes on her stare and matching her energy.  
Lost for words and trying to stall as long as she could, shifting her stare to her empty plate of food whishing there was more of it. Keeping her eyes down cast and watch her hands fold and refold the fabric of her pants.  
"Rosá, look at me when I speak to you." Sounding eerily like her father when he did raise his voice on the odd occasion when Rosemary was getting into mischief.  
Slowly she looked back to him and saw his narrowed green eyes and lips pull firmly taunt to a frown.  
"I'm sorry." was all the words she could find in herself to say and closed her hands into a fist on her lap.  
"Sorry for not wanting to get help? Rosemary you were the one who reached out for me to help you with your issues and today I have seen on multiple fronts that you need help more than ever." Reaching under the table and gently grabbing her clinched fist.  
"Can we not talk about it here?" Words rushing out and looking down to her lap to see her small hands covered by his large hand alone.  
"Alright, why don't you take a seat in the parlour and I'll clear dinner."  
"Yes uncle." Still looking down.  
Pulling his hand away and pushing himself away from the table she prickled up right when she felt his lips on her forehead. With a chaste kiss and catching his smile and gleaming eyes stooped over the top of her. Giving her best smile and waits for him to leave the room before excusing herself from the table. She left the table feeling nauseous about the idea of opening up to him. He would continue to pry her open until he got what he wanted. A bit of tough love was what she probably needed and Niccolò was in no short supply of it. Wondering across the hall to one of a few parlours in this house

The room lay in complete darkness only lit by the minimal light from the pale moonlight and night sky. Everything took on a sinister look with sharp shadows cast on the walls. While it was warm evening this room felt slightly cool and cold to her body. Aimlessly wondering into the room to get a better feel of the empty space that surrounded her. Finding comfort from the dark. In the faint light she could see several collections of photos lining the wall and sitting amongst antique pieces on cabinets. This room seemed to hold many memories that belonged to the family she never really understood. In the silence of it all the faint sounds of crickets and even the odd owl in the distance could be heard. The smell of varnish and polish filled her sense of smell as she got close to the cabinetry to have a closer look at some of the items on display. She was drawn in by a glass rose that angled upwards on a slant resting in a fine holder. The colour was a deep shade red verging close to black in the low visibility of the darkness, with the stem of what is presumable a lush green, shimmers in direct moonlight. The impeccable detail within each petal and the even the sharp points of the thorns were admirable to the eye. Rosemary couldn’t seem to draw her eyes away. 

A click from behind had her turning, jumping ever so slightly, completely unaware her uncle had entered the room. Which now had a deep warm ambiance resonating from the floor length lamp with the warm light reaching out into the space of the room. Sitting two cups of coffee on the table and moved inwards to be by Rosemary's side. In one action Niccolò’s hand joined in examining the lovely glass article that beheld her attention. "That was a gift from your grandparents, your grandmother approved very much of the name your father chose, hence the glass rose."  
"You mean my father and mother?" She automatically goes to correct his statement as though it was wrong.  
"Something like that." Without any warning she felt his other hand coil around her waist with a minor tug to bring her near.  
"What do you mean something like that? Are you implying my mother had no say in my name?" Sounding rather precarious to voice her own thought on the matter and heighten by the movement of his hand and feeling him well pressed against her that she blushed.

She felt his body move to be in line with her spine and the brush of stubble against her cheek as his lips pressed against her skin. Angling his head down towards her neck and collar bone. Leaving his moisture and saliva creating a cool surface. While her body burned deep with a kindling fire with every second he held tight to her. Rose couldn't deny she felt this same exhilarating feeling when she dreamed of her father. Making her feel slightly light headed.  
"That my precious girl, is exactly my point, it was your father that was in control." Trailing up her neck with his mouth pausing ever so slowly to answer before he continued taking more of her skin in his tantalising lips.  
Rosemary’s breathing was quickening the longer his lisps tasted her skin. There was no way he couldn't tell that her own breathing and pulse were showing signs of spiralling out of control. Why wasn't she stopping him? This spontaneous action of passion was not at all where she saw tonight going. Rose thought earlier was close and personal between them but this was pushing her further across that line that scared her. Throwing her mind in a frenzy of thoughts. "Niccolò -Oh", she gasped as he gently grazed his teeth on her fine exotic skin and bone.  
Suckling that little bit harder on her neck letting a piece of her inner self out. Unmasking her crumbling facade further from the work of his beautiful mouth.  
"Sshh my sweet Rosá, and just let go. I know you can." His voice heavy and gruff against her skin reverberating down her neck sending a tingling wave down her body and into her core. 

Too focused on the movement of her uncle’s mouth that she neglected to notice the grip around her waist. Verging on painful as his large hand was firmly planted right on her pelvic region and therefore keeping her locked under his control and putting even more pressure down there, turning her body on more. A man of Niccolò’s Stature could and _would_ prevail over any futile attempt Rosemary could put up. Her logic was losing this battle to her desire as the urge to moan with every touch was becoming harder to control. As her mouth threaten to spill those feminine cries that would surely excite her uncles zeal. Somehow she found the words she needed to say, "Uncle Stop! This can't happen. This isn’t the right course of action. You are my guardian, provider, care giver in this instance." Frantically trying to pull away from her uncle’s advances, but at the same time frustrated at herself for trying to pull away from such affection Niccolò was bestowing her and how she loved the way he was touching her.  
But the more she tried to move the tighter his grip and the harder he pushed his teeth into her skin. Causing a high pitch yelp when he sank further into her prime flesh. His voice rumbled close to her ear as he repositioned his arm to wrap around her upper chest to restrain her flailing arms that nestle up under her breast pushing them further up against her night shirt. The evident stiffness at her back where her uncle held pressed against his waist was all too real.  
“I can and will. I see it in your eyes, let it out and accept this side of you.” His voice almost paralysing her in great fear that her mind was starting to go into overdrive to cope. Forced upon her and tears weld up in her eyes. She was trapped and no one could stop him. Rosemary could only plead.  
“Please uncle I can’t, no I can’t accept it uncle this is wrong. You need to stop this right now. I don’t consent to this.” Panic and heart rattling against her ribs wanting out just like herself.  
She was helpless to his charm and dominance that laced his voiced as he growled  
“Don’t fight it Rosá, you’re only going to make it much worse than it really has to be.” Scolding her like a little girl. She felt responsible and guilty for the position she was in. Rattling her frame of mind.

Her heart skipped a beat when the ground vanished beneath her feet in a second no more after pleading. A strong arm scooped her legs up and hulled her body against his chest until she stared faced up into his vicious eyes that gleamed and beckon her inner daemons to come out and play. Time in that very moment froze and all that could be said was the intense gaze that the two of them shared. Rosemary was trying to keep them at bay but when his green eyes narrow, she was fighting against her mouth saying yes and letting go of what control she had. In moments of her up root she was thrust upon an old antique chaise long with the fine velvet maroon upholstery against her back to comfort her landing and her uncles iron bind around her wrist leaving no room to budge. While his legs enclosed and locked her legs from moving far. Niccolò’s form now hunched over Rosemary taking all control that she might have had while on her legs.  
“I can’t is not an answer, try again Rosá.” His voice flipped from his loving charisma he had to something primal that thrilled the voices in her head.  
Her voice gone, so frighten to even challenge his sudden power play and all that came was a pathetic whimper. Turning away to look out the window as her only escape from reality. Screaming was of little use and fighting this toxic affliction of her father and now uncle. Rose could no longer ignore the pain of holding these thoughts back that she finally broke down and let the river of tears she had tried to hold back. Face a mess and sweat starting to dry on her skin. In this moment his voice rang in her mind. While laboured breathing was all that she could hear and sobs of pain and utter confusion that escaped her lips among this hysteria. Niccolò continued to kiss her neck and getting the little bit closer to her sternum leaving her crying and moaning. 

Rosemary’s mind brought her under and blacked out from reality, to the fictitious scene that was so clear and felt so real, the two of them together in such an embrace and her returning his desire as both lips met in unison and her body trying to grind up against him. So needy and desperate for approval and to be loved. Yet Niccolò was still in control. Everything was mute, as there was no need for sound. Rose looked onto this tragic sinful act, watched the way Niccolò’s hands slid up her body so easily and naturally knowing where to touch her, so her lips would spill his name over and over again. The rapid rise and fall of her chest. Rosemary watched on knowing that she was coming so close to the line where she was willing to give herself up to her uncle just to feel loved and whole again, all for affirmation and knowing that this was what Carlos wanted for her. ‘Yes, yes my sweet baby Rosa, Let your uncle help and show you the true way of living. You’ll make papa so proud dear.’ Her father’s voice filled the space around this scene and felt so gratifying and real. Rosemary feared that if she spun around he would be standing behind her watching this desperate part of herself. Crying for her uncle to go further than just kissing and touching. It was sickening yet felt herself gravitate to this delusional darkness that was chewing her from the inside until only that part of her remained, destroying her sense of belonging and identity in the progress.  
“Is this really what you want from me father?” So lifeless and hollow her voice rang in this timeless dimension of her mind.  
She waited in this strange silence that Rosemary was sure she was crazy thinking he would respond.  
“Yes Rosa this is what I wanted from you. This is the true family you belong to. The Luciano family. Where we live both sides of the line of morality.”  
She paused and savored his voice before she spoke the words that were constantly on her mind, “I miss you so much.”  
“As do I my sweet rosebud, But in the end we all come back to where we belong.” She could feel a breeze surround her and a phantom touch up her arms. Her throat swelled with emotion.  
“Don’t leave me daddy, not again.” She ignored her father’s riddled speech as her voice choked on her tears and sobbed as they ran down her face.

But there was no answer and he left once again, leaving his little girl in a mess of her mind. She wanted him to continue to speak to her but alas her mind was slipping back to reality and soon zoned back to hear Niccolò’s voice firm but worried due to her sudden docility and absent mind.  
“Rosá, ragazza preziosa.” And the Italian flowed with such beauty like her father, that finally her lips quivered and her voice hoarse as silent stream of tears welled in her eyes and wet her cheeks and chin. At first Rosemary was looking at her father on top of her but soon turned back to her uncle.  
“H-hold me… p-papa…father don’t leave me.” Broken and incoherent speech.  
“sshh it’s alright _daddy’s_ here” words soft and sweet like honey yet laced with a venom that she almost believed it was her father but knew it was Niccolò, but pulled her mind closer to his voice regardless. 

Niccolò’s grip on her hands loosened significantly that he stroked lazy circles on her wrist and rubbed his fingers where marks were still bright red from his crushing grip. Gently he manoeuvred his body and her view slowly cleared with tears. Head resting on his lap now, unsure of what just happened. Before that she just didn’t care. The calming effect as his hands ran deep in the river of brown locks and strands splayed along her side. A cool refreshing sensation as his fingers skimmed her scalp and making her twist with pleasure every so often and detangling it further. Gently he hummed a tune that sounded familiar, it was comforting and sobering to her mind after what just happened.  
“Uncle.” Rosemary spoke dully.  
“Yes dear?” Continuing to comb her hair.  
“Show me the first step.” If this was what her father wanted why not indulge and assess later.  
Damn the consequences of her actions. Though her more rational side urged her not. Cautiously and slowly Rosemary feebly sat up beside him. She looked into his devious gaze that was set upon her face. A smile twitched on his mouth and he bent over offering her the cup of coffee.

“Just one thing at a time, drink your coffee dear it will help you calm down.”  
She accepted the beverage and let the liquid quell her raw dry throat. Still confused but what could she  
do, Niccolò could switch on and off with a click of a finger, that his loving uncle fatherly charm and lustful  
dominant side that had his claws and fangs in her heart were the same person. ‘We live both sides of the line of morality.’ Her father’s words made sense, watching them in action through her uncle this evening.  
They sat and drank there coffee and he slipped his hand over her lap.  
“I need to ask you something.” His voice soft and calm.  
“What is it?” Sipping gently well aware of where his hand sat.  
“I want you to speak a psychiatrist, more exactly our family doctor.” His voice firm and air tight denying her any chance to refute him.  
Rosemary can’t say she was shocked that he played the doctor card. Couldn’t find it in herself to resent him for his choice. Besides if she truly wanted a fresh start come this school year she would have to give and take.  
“Alright, it’s probably time I do get professional help.” Finishing her coffee and placing the cup down.  
Leaning upwards she moulded her lips to his and for once wilfully kissed him on her own volition for what might be the first time. Rose could taste the bitter coffee and traces of the wine and she didn’t want to stop but forced herself to. Niccolò was smirking proudly, in triumph of the kiss as proof that she still accepts him even after giving her niece a taste of the man he is, underneath the surface of his astute self.  
“I’m sorry if I pushed you a bit too hard tonight. But always remember I do what I do because you are family. Families love each other dearly no matter what. Now you should get to bed, it’s late.” Niccolò’s voice was deep as he threw a glance at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room.  
“Yes uncle.” She gave him one more kiss with a sweet smile before getting up to head to bed.

She left the room with uneasy pressure from her uncle’s hawk like stare. Rose had managed to put up a brave front going along with her uncle as she remained unsure if she could live up to her uncle’s let alone fathers expectations. She was already feeling worn out from her hellish day and trudged up the stairs feeling slightly drowsy. As soon as she was up the stairs and in her room, closing the door she gasped for more air and more uncontrollable tears gushed down. How was she still functioning after all of today? It was so much, that saying yes to a bloody psychiatrist was the least of her concerns. Was she really going to go through with what her father and uncle desired for her? Why her uncle hadn’t raped her or gone to that extreme, he had molested her and made sexual advances that should see her calling the police or mother to get her home. But she wasn’t and that only meant that she ‘accepted’ it which was just utter disgusting and shameful. At the same time her other half felt violated that she just wanted to forget this day even happened. 

She didn’t get too far into her room before she felt the drowsiness intensify and made Rosemary unsteady and her vision blur. Making it onto her bed before she could go tumbling onto the floor. Limbs starting to feel numb and nothing seemed to want to cooperate. What was happening? Had he drugged her? Face against the sheets her vision distorted but the sudden vibration and light of her phone made her surge with energy and panic. Her legs were unresponsive now. A sluggish heave of her body with what little strength and muscle control in her upper body saw her in reaching position to answer the phone.  
“M…mudder” slurred from her numb lips and blackness encroaching with her last futile attempt to reach it.  
Hand falling short of energy. The ringing and buzzing kept her alert. Mind fogging up and incoherent thoughts, nothing made sense and all her memories of this evening seemed less and less real. Through her haze footsteps could be herd, far or near she couldn’t tell. Ringing sounded again and she wanted to cry and scream for help to her mother, who hadn’t heard from her at all. The thought of speech was lost to her. The creaking sound of wood groaned that was incredibly loud to her ears. Rosemary was moments away from passing into oblivion. The door clicked open and shut and the last thing she saw were black slacks and the edges of her uncles white shirt, yet her ears couldn’t displace her Uncles exotic sly voice against her ears, “Sweet dreams darling Rosá. I’ll see you in the morning.” Followed by the sound of metal jangling and rustle of fabric and slick sound of maybe what could be a belt.  
Rose was glad for blackness because what was about to happen was about to become her nightmare. She had fallen deep and couldn’t climb her way out of this beautiful trap of manipulation, that being her uncle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm truly surprised how this turned out when i let my fingers do the typing late at night. Hope the length wasn't to much for you guys.  
> thanks guys for reading. feel free to give feedback or throw a kudos along the way. It was great writing this giving me a break from my chaotic life, preparing to transition into university and moving house.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are much appreciated!  
> The next chapter will be longer just setting up the story that's to come.


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